


Family Tree

by EirinnGoBragh12



Series: Beginnings, Endings, Inbetweens [3]
Category: Backstrom (TV)
Genre: Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-04-12 15:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EirinnGoBragh12/pseuds/EirinnGoBragh12
Summary: Family trees should fork, not split. Sooner or later longevity leads to familiarity.





	1. Chapter 1

Peter attempted to find his belongings amidst his own closet. Valentine had convalesced at the apartment, and stayed the ten days he’d agreed to in return for Dr. Livingston’s signature on his discharge papers. Then another day, and another until he’d been there for almost a month. Val’s injury still troubled him, but he didn’t need Peter’s assistance anymore, and Val still had a room at the barge, but he stayed and kept expanding his use of the space. Which meant that Peter’s closet was now overgrown with scarves, jackets, shirts for any occasion, all in a variety of colors. He wished Val would just admit he was moving in so they could consider a bigger place. Peter found his work suit, and hung it on the back of the door. He let his towel drop, and suddenly Valentine was in the doorway. Valentine wore only an expression that suggested... Peter was going to be late for work...again.

***  
Valentine was busying himself in the kitchen, preparing a chicken stir fry, metal music playing low. Peter’s neighbors had already filed one music complaint and Val was determined not to make waves for Peter. Val checked his text messages again, Peter was having a difficult day, and Val wanted to help ease the tension. Val had promised him hallway sex upon his arrival, and several erotic text exchanges had occured since. Val transferred the meal to plates and put them on the table, he dimmed the lights, lit two candles, and nodded in approval at his own handywork. 

There was a knock at the door. Val adjusted his robe so it was open down to stomach. He was still self conscious of the mostly healed wound, and made sure it was covered. Peter tried not to, but Val noticed Peter winced every time he saw it. “Did you forget your keys?” Val called as he flung open the door. Val had already committed to slouching into his sexiest pose before it registered that a stranger was standing there, and not Peter. Val laughed embarrassed, and quickly pulled his robe closed. “Can I help you?” he blurted out.

“Uhh,” the man said, stepping back to look at the apartment number again. He looked inside the apartment from the doorway and then back at Valentine. “Does Peter, live here?” Val looked more closely at the stranger, tall, but not quite as tall as Peter, dark hair, but the eyes, they were very similar to Peter’s. 

Val bit his lip, “yes,” he said, awkwardly adjusting his robe. 

“And you are?” the man asked suspiciously. Val thought for a moment, he was pretty sure this was an older brother, definitely a relative. The elevator at the end of the hall dinged, and Val hoped Peter was home. Instead, two individuals got off headed towards the apartment. They also slowed as they came close and saw Valentine, then checked the apartment numbers.

“I’m sorry, is he expecting you?” Val asked, not really sure how to manage this situation. 

“Is he expecting you?” the man shot back. 

“Who are you?” Val asked.

“I’m Mark, his brother, and these are our parents Dolly and Frederick Mayr,” Mark said snapped.

“Then I’m sure he would want you to come in,” Val said stepping aside, and shutting the door behind them. They made their way to the living room, and Val clicked off the radio, and turned the lights back on. The dining table had places set for two and candlelight, which Val quickly blew out before joining them in the living room. Mark, Dolly and Frederick began looking back and forth at each other and then looking Val up and down. 

Val licked his lips and swallowed his throat suddenly dry. “Could you excuse me for one moment?” Val asked drifting towards the hallway and as soon as he was out of sight quickly walked to the bedroom. Val shut himself in, and listened at the door for a moment.

“Did he just go into Peter’s room?” he heard Dolly whisper.

“Do you think he’s subletting?” Frederick whispered.

“Or running a god damn brothel?” Mark suggested in a loud and irritated tone. Val went in search of his cell phone and wished Peter lived on the first floor. This seemed like an excellent time to crawl out a window and make a break for it. Val remembered his phone was sitting on the counter, and didn’t want to go back out for another round of silence and condemning stares. He went to the closet and pulled on one of his plain long sleeve black shirts, his gray jacket, and his skinny jeans. He checked his appearance, retouched his eyeliner and kohl. Val didn’t meet a lot of parents, hell he’d only met his own father a few months ago.

Val took a deep breath and made his way back out into the living room. “Oh good, you helped yourself to wine,” he remarked seeing everyone had a glass in hand and the bottle was considerably emptier than when he’d disappeared into the bedroom. Mark stared with all manner of hostility, and both of the parents looked confused and horrified. 

“How do you know our son?” Frederick asked. 

“That’s a fun question,” Val said nervously, rubbing his hands together. Blissfully, he heard Peter’s key in the lock. “Excuse me again, one moment,” Val said, bolting back into the hallway and to the front door. Peter was through the front door, and Val walked towards him attempting to intercept him and warn him, but Peter was fast and as soon as Val opened his mouth, Peter’s mouth was on his, his tongue delving deep, his jacket was off his shoulders, and he was backing Val towards the wall. He was loosening his tie with one hand, and other was holding Val’s head, as they kissed. 

“I’ve had the worst day,” Peter breathed, sweeping the hall table and lifted Val against it. Val closed his eyes as the contents bounced to the floor.

“Peter, Peter,” Val was whispering, trying to distract him. “Stop,” Val laughed quietly as Peter’s hands started to lift Val’s shirt. Peter leaned his head back, and gave Val a funny look. 

“What’s the matter?” Peter asked, his arms going around Val and pulling him close. 

“He probably wants to tell you your parents are here,” Mark called from the other room. Peter jumped, stiffened and then smiled awkwardly. 

Peter mouthed “my parents?” at Val and Val nodded his head wide eyed, and covered his mouth as nervous laughter started to bubble up. Peter rubbed his forehead, and smiled. “Okay,” he mouthed. “Ready?” he looked nervous. Val shrugged and nodded. He slid off the table and picked up the items with Peter’s help. He then fixed Peter’s tie and picked up his jacket, tucking it over his arm. Peter grabbed his hand, and started towards the living room. 

Val pulled his hand back shaking his head and mouthing “are you crazy?” Peter leaned in and kissed him, much more softly and without a sound, and then took Val’s hand back. 

“I am crazy about you,” Peter whispered. Val smiled. He matched pace with Peter and they rounded the corner. Dolly was swallowing wine in a most unladylike fashion, and Frederick and Mark both had twin expressions of shock. They all traded looks not saying anything. 

“This is Val,” Peter said, turning and smiling brightly at Val.

“Peter,” his father started, stopped, drank wine. “We were worried about you,” he said, looking suspiciously between Val and Peter. 

“Maybe we could talk privately, without your,” Mark said waving his hand in Val’s general direction, “whatever the hell he is.” Val dropped Peter’s hand and quickly retreated for the hallway, but Peter followed him, stepping from view of his family.

“You don’t have to leave,” Peter said. 

“I think it’s better,” Val whispered, looking uncomfortable. Peter released his hand and put his hands in his pockets. Val drifted down the hall and blew a silent kiss, and then smiled as he ducked into the bedroom. 

“Was that a fucking prostitute?” Mark snapped, as soon as Peter rounded the corner again.

“Mark!” Dolly admonished. 

“Val lives here with me,” Peter answered, “sort of,” he amended. 

“You live with, what the fuck, he answered the door half naked in a robe?” Mark spat.

“You haven’t touched your trust fund in years, and suddenly your making withdrawals, are you in trouble?” Frederick asked.

“Are you a pimp?” Mark asked angrily, “or are you spending the family money on prostitutes?”

“Valentine is not a prostitute, and I’d hardly be the first to spend family money on prostitutes if he was,” Peter snapped back.

“Is that his real name, Valentine, it sounds like a prostitute name, or a stripper name,” Mark volleyed back. 

“Listen,” Peter said, looking at his parents. “Obviously, there have been some new developments in my life, but it all happened kind of fast. I’m still trying to figure some things out myself.” 

“Being a police officer is one thing, but this?” Frederick said gesturing in the general direction of Peter’s bedroom. 

“I love him,” Peter said firmly. 

“Please,” Mark rebuffed. “Him?” he asked incredulous, “and that fact that it would embarrass us was just a coincidence?” 

“Watch it,” Peter warned, any lightness disappearing from his tone. 

“Let’s,” Dolly said, holding up her hands towards her boys. “Let’s just take a moment shall we?” she looked at all three of the men in the room. “We are here unannounced and uninvited.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Peter said softly. 

“I think we should go back to our hotel, and Peter, we would like it if you joined us there tomorrow for brunch,” Dolly said softly. Peter’s brother looked livid and his father seemed equally angry and horrified. 

“That’s probably best,” Peter agreed.

“Of course!” Mark snapped, “check your wallets first!”

“That’s enough,” Peter snapped. 

 

“Tomorrow,” Dolly said firmly. 

“This is ridiculous,” Mark muttered, “by the way, we saw the newspaper article, I trust he was the prostitute they mention. You’re really making a name for yourself.” Mark led the way and Frederick followed, looking down, and shaking his head. Dolly trailed behind last.

“Are you okay?” she asked, stopping just in front of Peter.

“I’m more than okay, and I’ve never been happier,” Peter said, dropping a kiss on her cheek. 

“Okay,” she breathed out, patting Peter’s forearm as she followed behind the swiftly retreating family members. She glanced back towards the bedroom, worry written into the lines of her face, then she disappeared and joined Mark and Frederick. Peter closed the door and latched it behind them. He briefly rested his head against the door. 

He didn’t hear Val come up behind him, and startled when Val’s arms snaked around him, and Val pressed his body against Peter’s back. Peter held Val’s hands to his chest. 

“So you have parents,” Val breathed, a hint of humor coloring his words. Peter laughed. 

“Yes, I do.”

“They seem, nice,” Val shrugged. Peter turned in his arms, cupping Val’s face and kissing him. “They don’t have the same last name as you?”

“Yes, when I became a cop there were concerns about connections and embarrassment, so I changed to an older family name.”

Hmmm, Val nodded, nibbling at Peter’s neck. “Back to my bad day,” Peter said, pushing Val back towards the hallway table and sweeping it again. Val was laughing, as he lifted himself onto the table and his arms went around Peter, pulling him in, his tongue sliding passed Peter’s lips, and his hands went behind Peter. 

“What’s this?” Val panted pulling back, “oh it’s your wallet,” Val smirked. Peter laughed, plucked his wallet from Val’s hands, and tossed it over his shoulder. Val’s hands went for Peter’s belt swiftly removing it and starting in on his buttons. 

“I want you,” Peter said hungrily, pulling Val’s shirt off and tossing it aside. Val worked himself out of his skinny jeans, with Peter’s help, and then pulled open a drawer on the table containing condoms and lube. Peter stepped out of his own pants, and Val was fitting him with a condom. Val faced the wall, bracing with his hands, as Peter pressed behind him, kissing him over his shoulder, Peter and Val’s hands both held Val’s erection, stroking as Peter pushed into him, thrusting, Val pressed off the wall, deepening the thrusts. Both men were moaning, grunting, Peter bit Val’s shoulder, as they both continued stroking Val’s cock. 

“Oh, ah,” Val moaned, his thrusting taking a frenzied pace, he came the liquid spilling over their hands, and the wall. Peter kept thrusting, until his own orgasm slammed through him. 

“You’re,” Peter just smiled, “I can’t even describe you,” Peter said through gasping breaths, letting his mouth express his appreciation and desire, his tongue delving deep, as he pulled Val backwards, Val turned, and his hands went to Peter’s face and neck, pulling him in close, stroking available flesh. “You’re perfect.”

“I know, you’re very lucky to have me,” Val reminded him, as he sucked in more air trying to regulate his breathing, “you got to dessert before dinner,” he purred, kissing along Peter’s shoulder, occasionally letting his teeth dig in. Peter laughed, pulling Val in closer, and Val had to go on his toes to maintain the kiss. 

“Did you cook for me?” Peter asked grinning.

“I made you a little something,” Val promised, still trying to catch his breath. Peter started to pick up his clothes, as Val tossed him one of the two hand towels he’d grabbed from the drawer, wiping away the sticky residue of their frantic sexual encounter.

“Oh no,” Val chastised with a smirk, “If you have a shirt and shoes, you won’t get service,” he promised, with arched eyebrows, biting his tongue in a seductive fashion. Peter smiled, dropping his clothes as Val grabbed his hands, and pulled him towards the table.

***  
Peter arrived at his parent’s hotel alone. There was no mistake that the meeting didn’t include Valentine, not that Val even hinted he wanted to come. Peter rode the elevator up and didn’t know what he was going to say. Peter knocked lightly on the door, and an older gentleman answered.

“Mr. Niedermayer,” he greeted with a bow. “Your parents are through there, may I take your jacket?” 

“Thank you,” Peter said, removing his coat and handing it off to what he assumed was his parent’s valet. He made his way towards the large apartment sized hotel room, until he found his parents and Mark at the dining table, filling plates with various breakfast items.

“Peter,” his mom greeted warmly, coming around to kiss his cheeks. Mark and his father stayed at their places, both nursing orange juices, or if Peter was guessing correctly, screwdrivers. 

“What the fuck Peter?” Mark started right away. 

“Mark!” Dolly admonished. “What Mark means is, we are worried about you.”

“No, he doesn’t, he means what the fuck are you doing with a prostitute?” Mark interjected. “When you abandoned the family to go pursue your own dreams, being a cop, we all supported you. We helped you, and you said you wouldn’t embarrass us, it was just something you felt you had to do,” Mark said rising from his chair. 

“All of that is still true, Val isn’t about embarrassing you, and Val isn’t an embarrassment anyway. If you knew him,” Peter started.

“Oh, we know lots about Gregory Valentine,” Mark said lifting a manilla envelope. “Prostitute, thief, con artist, former psychic, lived with some cop for protection for seven years and then moved on to you,” Mark summarized.

“That’s not accurate,” Peter returned, “and you had no right.”

“I had no right. Peter, are you blind? What is this kid doing to you? Or for you?” Mark said with an eyeroll. “These things are all true.”

“Valentine is more than the sum of your file. I love him,” Peter said firmly.

“Does he love you back, does he tell you how wonderful you are when you slip him hundred dollar bills?” Mark asked. 

“I don’t pay Valentine,” Peter said closing his eyes, a headache starting to form.

“He’s not on your bank account? ” Mark asked mockingly. 

“I put him on there, he didn’t ask. And he’s hardly touched any of the money,” Peter defended. “Wait, stop. This is none of your business. I’m not defending my relationship with Valentine to you, or anyone else,” Peter said, his gaze sweeping the room to include his parents.

“Let’s all settle down,” Dolly said. 

“For Christ’s sake mom,” Mark bite out. 

“No!” Dolly snapped. “Mark, your father and I want to speak to Peter alone.”

“What?!” Mark asked and his eyes bulged with anger. 

“I spoke very clearly,” Dolly stood her ground. 

“You’re kicking me out? He’s fucking a prostitute, wrecking his career and possibly endangering our reputation and you’re admonishing my behavior?” Mark was incredulous. Mark whipped up his file and stormed past Peter and Peter stepped back out of his way. 

Dolly gripped the back of her chair, and took some calming breaths. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter said softly. 

“No, it’s our fault. Mark is under a lot of pressure since we have stepped back from the business,” Dolly said. “and Melissa is leaving him.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Peter offered.

“We came because we are worried about you. After visiting last night, Mark put together that file on Gregory. It’s concerning,” Dolly started, sadness and worry in her eyes. 

“Mom, he’s not like you think. Did Mark’s file indicate he saved my life? That he changes his life to make mine better? That he’s smart, funny, brave, incredibly loyal?”

“Those things did not appear as a major thread in the overall view of Gregory Valentine’s life. And a man?” Dolly asked, her face scrunching up. “Is that new, we had no idea…” Dolly trailed off. 

“It’s new, and it’s just him. He makes me feel,” Peter shrugged, it was too hard to explain under their judgemental glare. 

“Does he love you, are you getting married?” Dolly was clearly trying to sound casual, but Peter could see sweat starting to form on her brow and lip. 

“We’re figuring things out still,” Peter hedged. 

“You know he has defrauded people. That he’s done a lot of unsavory things for money, you can appreciate how it looks,” Dolly tried to explain.

“I can’t alleviate your fears, but let me tell you this. I would trade my whole trust fund and all the money I had for one day with him. He makes me happy.”

Dolly and Frederick exchanged looks. “Is there anything we can say that might cause you to reconsider his intentions?” Frederick asked, taking a long drink from his screwdriver. 

“Sure, you could offer to get to know him better, and spend time with him. You could give him a chance. You could trust me.”

“Peter, you’ve always had a gentle spirit,” Dolly started.

“I’m sorry that Mark is getting divorced. But you knew Melissa was only after money.”

Both Frederick and Dolly exchanged looks, ‘but she’s from a good family,” the excuse sounded flat.

“So just because Val at one time openly exchanged sex for money, he’s less than? Melissa didn’t go out of her way to hide her intentions, and Mark has spent exponentially more on her that I have on Valentine.” Peter tried to reason by comparison. 

“It’s different,” Frederick explained.

“Because Val’s a man and was a prostitute or is there some non-judgmental unbiased standard upon which the difference rests?” Peter asked exasperated. 

“Peter!” Dolly snapped. “We are not close minded. He is openly a criminal, and gay,” Dolly trailed off, ”not that being gay is,” Dolly shrugged. 

“You have no idea who he is, or all the things he’s done. No one has ever made me feel as important or cared about,” Peter said, and he had to avert his gaze. 

“You can’t mean that, and even if you do, you know prostitutes are supposed to do that. They make you feel special to get money, it’s a show,” Frederick volleyed back frustration coloring his words.

“Val was a prostitute. He’s not now. He’s had some interesting career choices. He’s a good man.” 

“We can’t support this,” Frederick said firmly.

“I wasn’t asking for your blessing,” Peter returned, meeting his father’s gaze. 

“I think, this is big,” Dolly said licking her lips, “too big to settle in one conversation when we are so far apart. Can we eat for a bit, and consider this a stalemate for the time being. We so rarely see you, and I don’t want to spend the entire visit fighting. 

***

Val was adding more eyeliner when he heard a knock at the door. Peter was going to have brunch with his family, so Valentine stayed behind, and had planned to go around and see Backstrom. Val finished touching up his eyes. Val looked through the peephole and saw Peter’s brother standing there. Val contemplated pretending not to be home, and Mark pounded again. Val rolled his eyes, and tried to make his face appear less mocking. 

“Hi,” Val said opening the door, and Mark shouldered past him, “come in won’t you,” Val sighed, closing the door. Mark went to the living room and poured himself a drink from the bar. Val watched him from the doorway. Mark threw a folder down on the coffee table, and paperwork and photos spilled out. Val tensed as he saw some familiar pictures. He turned to look at Mark who was clearly watching to see Val’s reaction. “What?” Val shrugged.

“You’re a fucking whore,” Mark said, and Val watched a vein throbbed in Mark’s temple. 

“If I had to guess, I think we are both guilty of some whoring, mine’s just more in demand and less acceptable,” Val mused, tilting his head with a raised eyebrow.

“My little brother,” Mark shook his head. “What will it take to get rid of you?” Val laughed.

“Peter can get rid of me anytime he likes, he just needs to say the word,” Val offered. Mark rolled his eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a checkbook. 

“Just tell me a number.” 

“Zero,” Val quipped, “there is zero that you can do to get rid of me.” 

Mark stiffened and stared at Val, eyes narrowing. “What do you want then?”

“You, to leave,” Val said pointing in the direction of the door.

“What do you want with him?” Mark demanded closing the distance between them. 

“It’s none of your business,” Val remarked. 

“He said he loves you,” Mark said with narrowed eyes, “what’s your game here Vivian?” he asked angrily. Val laughed without humor at the Pretty Woman comparison. “You a harlot with a heart of gold? You fall in love with my brother?” Mark peppered questions at Val. “Or at least with his money?” Mark guessed. “Peter may think he loves you, but he’s gullible and kind hearted. You know it too don’t you?” Mark accused.

“You don’t know anything about your brother, if you would describe him as gullible,” Val returned rolling his eyes. 

“What’s your game here, I read your file, the public stuff, the not public stuff. What are you after?” Mark demanded. 

“Nothing I say will matter to you,” Val remarked more anger spilling into his answer this time. 

“I’m not going to let you take advantage of my brother, of our family,” Mark promised, returning to the bar to pour another drink. Mark watched Val, as he paced back and forth nursing his drink, throwing angry looks at Val. 

“I thought there was a family meeting this morning,” Val wondered out loud, “was your presence not necessary?” 

“Shut up,” Mark spat. 

“I’m going to guess that Peter is the favored child,” Val mused out loud, and he jumped when the glass smashed next to his head. Val stepped back to avoid the glass, and Mark had closed the distance quickly and backhanded Val in the face. Val instinctively fought back throwing a fist towards Mark’s face. Obviously, Mark wasn’t expecting it and staggered back a step, holding his jaw. 

“Get out!” Val demanded. 

“I don’t know what hold you have over my brother, but enjoy this while it lasts,” Mark spat gesturing to the room at large. “I told Peter everything,” Mark said, pointing at the file. Mark strode from the room, and Val locked the front door when he left. Val took a deep breath and felt the side of his head where Mark’s hand had landed. A quick look in the mirror and he saw some minor swelling by his eye and a small cut. Val let his head fall back against the wall as he looked at his reflection. 

“Damn it,” he muttered, retrieving ice from the freezer and then cleaning up the glass and vodka that had splattered across the wall and floor. After he had righted everything and removed all evidence of an altercation -except for the swelling, and scratch - that would be fun to explain, then Val allowed himself to look at the file. He took a deep breath and poured himself a drink. Then settled in for a likely harrowing trip down memory lane. 

There was nothing earth shattering in the file, well, at least that Peter didn’t already know, or at least some vague notion of. Val was less than thrilled that it was so easy to go rooting around in his past. Every address he had growing up, information about his mother, every single allegedly sealed file from when he was a minor, and of course every arrest since he turned eighteen. Several of his scams were also listed. Trippi would have liked Mark a lot Val thought darkly. Val swallowed the last of his vodka. It’s not like Val had done a powerpoint presentation of his past, but Peter likely knew or had guessed at some of the things in the file already. Val was pretty sure nothing would upset Peter in the file. Val imagined it would be a very pleasant brunch if the file was passed around. Val shook his head, and tried not to feel ashamed of his past. Peter never made him feel that way, but the thought of Peter’s family thumbing through his record. Val sighed deeply and his side started to ache.

******

Peter seemed drained when he came home a few hours later. Valentine had dimmed the lights and set candles on the table. He’d been careful to play with the shadows, so his face was never really easy to see. He may not have needed so much prep as Peter seemed distracted and didn’t seem to notice anything was off. Val was stirring a sauce at the stove, and Peter stood behind him, wrapping his arms around Val and burying his face in Val’s neck. “Ummm,” Val purred, continuing to stir, he let one hand drift up to Peter’s neck, and gave him a quick pat. “Rough day?” Val asked, maneuvering his back so that his butt brushed Peter’s cock. Peter laughed. 

“You’re incorrigible,” Peter accused. 

“It’s a good thing that you’re insatiable then,” Val observed in a husky voice. Val clicked both the burners off, as Peter started biting at his neck. Val turned in Peter’s arms, and used both hands to guide Peter’s face so that their lips touched. Val teased along his mouth, kissing, licking, sucking Peter’s bottom lip into his mouth, and letting it go. Peter moaned softly, and Val felt his pulse quicken. Val backed up, using his arms to lift himself onto the counter, as he pulled Peter closer, wrapping his legs around him. Val enjoyed being slightly higher than Peter, and having to look down at him for a change. 

“You’re very handsome,” Val complimented, running his hands through Peter’s hair. Peter put his head against Valentine’s chest. 

“You’re exquisite,” Peter offered back, tilting his chin to look at Val as Val continued stroking his hair. Val’s hand drifted to a cabinet behind him, and he opened it. Peter saw out of the corner of his eye and laughed. “Is there a room in this apartment that is not housing condoms and lubes?”

“I’m a former boy scout I like to be prepared,” Val said, breathing heavily as he continued his assault of long deep kisses.

“You were not,” Peter said.

“You're right, but I do like to be prepared,” Val said, with a wicked eyebrow arch. 

****  
Peter and Val lay in the bed, tangled in the sheets, enjoying the sexual afterglow. Peter was propped against some pillows and Val was laying sideways with his head in Peter’s lap. ““Je t’aime,” Peter whispered, brushing Val’s temple with a kiss. Val smiled up at him, and let his hands explore Peter’s body. Val was far less skittish around proclamations in foreign languages than he was when Peter said the “L” word. 

“How long do you think your parents are staying?” Val asked, biting his lip softly.

“I don’t know,” Peter said stiffening a little bit at the mention of his family. 

“Long enough to get rid of me?” Val guessed. 

“Then I guess they are staying forever, because it’s never going to happen,” Peter offered, stroking Val’s chest and tracing circles over his tattoos. Peter was careful to avoid or linger on cigarette burns. 

“I don’t mind staying at the barge,” Val offered, bringing Peter’s hand to his mouth so he could kiss it, then the palm, then the wrist, as he smiled up at Peter.

“I mind a lot,” Peter said, returning the questioning gaze. Val shrugged. Peter stroked Val’s face, and then paused, squinting. He gently grabbed Val’s chin and turned his face so he could get a better look, “is your face swollen?” Val brushed him aside.

“I walked into a cabinet,” Val said, 

Peter sighed and leaned back, still feeling the swollen flesh as if he could tell what happened if he examined it long enough. “You know,” he said, “I know that’s not true?” Peter said trailing off.

“Sorry,” Val said softly, “habit.” 

“Can I at least know why you don’t want to tell me what really happened?” Peter asked looking skeptical. Val shrugged. “It’s okay, but you can tell me you know?” Peter offered. 

“I know,” Val said softly.

“Was it really bad?”

“No, just a misunderstanding,” 

“Any other injuries?”

Val sat up, his lips close to Peter’s, ”I’m not sure, maybe you should check,” Val offered breathlessly, guiding Peter’s hands to his body, Val kissed him, his tongue gliding along Peter’s lips. Peter’s hands came around to hold him, pulling him tighter onto his lap, grinding him against his erection. “Everywhere,” Val invited.


	2. Fault Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val meets the family. And family was supposed to be the biggest challenge, but life has it's own way.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Peter asked.

“I think I can survive a brunch with your family. A roomful of people who hate me and distrust me… you know I’ve been to juvie, jail, church,” Val started listing places, and Peter shut him up with a kiss, smiling from ear to ear.

“Je t’aime,” Peter murmured against his lips, his hands stroking the side of Val’s face. Val put his hands over Peter’s and looked up mischievously.

“All that turn you on, you like the bad boys,” Val purred, batting his lashes.

“Just this one bad boy,” Peter affirmed, kissing Val on the neck, before turning and knocking on his parents door. Mark opened the door, rolled his eyes at Val and Peter’s clasped hands, and then stood back throwing one arm out.

“Come in,” he said, not even attempting to hide his irritation, and shut the door behind them. Peter squeezed Val’s hands as they shared a smile. Peter felt more relaxed with Val at his side. Val seemed to thrive under adversity, and the more people tried to push him down, the harder Val fought back, in his own way. Val was so afraid of love, but he loved more fiercely than most people Peter had met. Perhaps, not as liberally, as Peter was fairly certain Val only loved Louise, Backstrom and him. Val definitely felt some loyalty and affection for the team, Dr. Livingston, and a handful of others.

“Thank you for joining us for brunch,” Frederick said stiffly. Mark dropped into a chair with barely an acknowledgement. Peter knew his mother had forced this issue of brunch, but he scanned the room and didn’t see her. Apparently if she wasn’t here to referee though, there were no rules.

“How about I get us drinks,” Val offered walking back towards the entrance and getting glasses from the liquor cart.

“Mr. Mayr?” Val asked, smiling from ear to ear, “Mark?”

“Yes, screwdriver, hold the OJ,” Mark said.

“Same,” Frederick agreed. Val winked at Peter, and started pouring drinks.

The front door opened and Peter felt himself relax, his mother must have returned. Peter sat at the table and set a plate for him and Val. He just had to get through this meal, then hopefully his parents would go back to New York.

“I’m sorry,” Dolly was saying tearfully, fright clear in her voice. Valentine was blocking the doorway, but he was holding his hands up, and maneuvering Dolly behind him, but he didn’t turn with her or look at her, Val was focused on something or someone else.

“Hey, we don’t want any trouble,” Val was saying, as he backed Dolly into the room further. There were two men with masks, and guns, Val was moving so he was in front, but he was stepping back. Peter wanted to curse, he started to move forward, but the 2nd gunman pointed a gun at him.

“Everyone just sit down,” he said. Val was still moving backwards, his hand back making sure Dolly was moving.

“I’m really sorry,” she said again.

“It’s okay, let’s just do what they say,” Val said, keeping his eyes firmly on both gunmen as he maneuvered Dolly towards the table.

“Everyone hands on the table, where we can see them,” said the one wearing a green jacket, built, dark hair, the same height as Peter. Dolly took a seat next to Frederick, and Val sat in the chair closest to the gunmen but next to Peter. Peter had tried to get him to move back further, but once again, Val was putting himself between Peter and danger. Peter’s heart started hammering fast.

“This is an unexpected side trip for us, obviously and we want to get out of your hair and back to our business as quickly as possible,” the one in the red jacket said, Peter noted that he was smaller but more muscular than his friend, same dark hair, perhaps brothers. “Is anyone else here?”

“Our valet is in the back,” Frederick offered.

“Get him, Paul,” Red Jacket said to Green Jacket.

Paul came back a few minutes later with the terrified looking gentlemen, who Peter had met the previous afternoon. Paul sat him next to Mark.

“Okay we’re going to get cozy for a few minutes, and then we will be on our way. Let’s go, everyone back to back.

“What can I use, Eric?” Paul asked. Eric pulled out some zip ties from his vest. Paul had Mark and the valet sit back to back and zip tied their hands together. He then moved on to Frederick and Dolly, and then Peter and Val stood. Val and he went back to back and Val grabbed Peter’s butt, and Peter whispered “Really?” Val gave another squeeze and patted his leg.

The gunman had them all sit. They started talking to each other quietly in the corner.

“What happened?” Peter asked quietly.

“I was walking down the hallway, and their door was open, I peaked in to close it, and I saw them, and they saw me,” Dolly said whitefaced. “They took my room key and made me come back here with them, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. The phone to the room rang. Eric looked at it, and then at the family. He grabbed the cordless unit and walked it over to Frederick pointing a gun at Dolly.

“Don’t do anything to get her hurt,” he said, clicking the button.

“Hello?” Frederick answered after nodding his assent. “No, we are fine in here, we’re having brunch with our family.” he said. Then he hung his head, “They want to talk to you,” he said looking up at Eric. Eric put the phone to his ear.

After a few minutes pause, Eric responded, “Well we don’t want anyone to get hurt either. Since we are all in agreement, I’ll need a helicopter for three on the roof in 15 minutes, or you’re going to get people hurt!” he snapped off the phone.

“Someone saw us?”Paul demanded.

“Nosy bitch,” Eric spat in Dolly’s direction. He and Paul retreated to the other side of the room and began whispering and pointing. Val stroked Peter’s fingers with his fingers and Peter returned the gesture, looking for an opportunity. He tested the zip ties, but they were tight. He could get out if he could scrap something against them. He felt Val’s fingers, and there was something in them. Peter felt the slight pressure on the zip ties, Val was rubbing something against them, and Peter could have kissed him, his clever lover never ceased to amaze. Peter did his part to appear normal and not draw any attention to Val.

Paul and Eric looked out the window. “That’s a lot of cops,” Paul remarked.

“We have to get to the roof, before they secure access to it,” Eric said. He grabbed the phone and the line appeared to connect instantly with the police. “I thought you wanted to work something out, there’s a lot of cops and I don’t hear our helicopter.” The hostage negotiator must have been trying to calm the situation, as several long seconds passed as Eric listened, argued, said no, and the argument continued.

“This is a nice brunch,” Val whispered pressed up against Peter. Peter nodded, studying the gun men, and casting an eye toward his parents from time to time.

“That’s interesting, thank you, that’s very helpful,” Eric said looking over the hostages. “Well, if one of your boys is up here, I’d like to return him to you. So I’ll tell you what, me, my friend, and your cop are leaving by the roof, so for his sake there better be a helicopter up there or it’s going to be a long way down for him.” Peter felt Val pressing against him, maybe frightened.

“It’s okay,” Peter whispered.

“Everything will be fine,” Val nodded.

“Je t’aime,” Peter said softly, of course he was going to protect his family, and Val, but he knew there was not going to be a helicopter on the roof, and these guys didn’t look like they were joking. Peter could only see Val out of the corner of his eye, might this really be the last time he saw him?

“Who is the cop?” Eric demanded.

“Me,” Val and Peter said in unison. “No,” Peter admonished, “Val don’t, I’m the officer,” Peter said. Peter heard his mother gasp behind them.

“No it’s okay, it’s my job,” Val admonished right back. The gun men looked between them. “I know undercover,” Val explained, “check my pocket I have my badge.” Peter’s head whipped around as Paul retrieved his badge from Val’s pocket.

“That’s mine,” Peter said quickly.

“No it’s not,” Dolly said softly, “he’s the cop,” she said, nodding at Val. Peter eyed her angrily.

“They’re lying,” Peter said, swiveling his head to face Eric. “It’s mine, Val is not a cop, I’ll go with you,” Peter shifted trying to block Val\, but Eric kicked him in the chest and whipped him with the pistol.

“Don’t,” Val gasped, trying to move so Peter wouldn’t be in range. Paul leaned down and cut their zip ties, dragging a slightly dazed Peter towards the wall where there was a metal bar securing the bar area. Paul zip tied Peter to the bar, as Eric secured Val’s hands behind his back again.

“Let’s go,” Eric said, “grabbing Val’s arm and leading him towards the door. Val looked back over his shoulder, he looked miserable, and mouthed ‘sorry’ at Peter. Eric pulled him towards the door, the gun pressed against his head.

“You don’t have to do this,” Peter called, “please, we can get you a helicopter, more luxurious than the police are ever going to offer, money, whatever you want, please!” Peter offered. There was no response. Peter pressed his head against the wall as they retreated. As soon as the door closed, he immediately started trying to break the ties. He twisted his arms so he could get his feet at the zip ties, and he pressed trying to scrap them and loosen them. He kicked at the bar, hoping to loosen it. He muttered curses and kept pushing, he had to get to Val.

****

Val kept scanning the hall with his peripheral vision, his breathing was picking up as fear started to dance along his spine. He licked his lips. “I’m not a great cop, I’ve been undercover awhile, maybe we could work something out,” he ventured.

“Shut up,” was the only response. Val stepped onto the elevator hoping for an opportunity or a chance. There was no way he could fight these guys and not get shot, especially with his hands firmly behind his back. The elevator whirred upwards, and Val felt a little sick with the gun pressed at his neck, and the upward pull of the elevator, he could feel sweat starting to trickle down his back. The elevator slid to a stop, and Val, Eric and Paul exited.

The walk to the roof was faster than Val expected. Of course there was no helicopter, they started walking him to the edge, Eric dialed on his cell phone, “Do you think I’m kidding, do you see him.” They walked Val to the ledge, where a waist high ledge was. They pushed him so he could see over the edge, and down to the cops. Val felt real fear, it was a long way down. He tried to see if there was anything to grab onto, not that it would have mattered with his tied hands. Val comforted himself with the fact that no matter what, it would be stupid to throw him over, because he was their only hostage. So keeping him alive kept them alive; however, he didn’t know what their plan might be if a helicopter didn’t show up.

“Get up there,” Paul said pushing Val and trying to force him. Val fought back, even knowing they were unlikely to push him, being on the ledge didn’t seem wise. He couldn’t help it, he put his feet against the short ledge and pushed backward. Paul and Val fell to the ground. Eric kicked Val off of Paul, and the two punches to Val’s face were not entirely unexpected, but he had to try. His vision blurred, and his head swam a little as he was jerked back to his feet and then rough hands were pushing him onto the ledge.

“No!” Val said forcefully, “don’t” and then “please,” Val begged and hated the desperation in his voice as he continued to struggle, he flung his head back into Paul, and then Eric pressed his gun to Val’s temple.

“It doesn’t really matter if you’re alive when we throw you,” he said. Val nodded, his legs shaky as he warred against the two potential deaths, maybe it would be better to be dead before they threw him. Val didn’t help - he couldn’t if he wanted to because he couldn’t make his legs walk him to his own death, but he didn’t resist as they pulled him onto the ledge, Paul grabbed a fistful of hair as Val knelled there on the edge, the wind rushing up in Val’s face, he felt dizzy and tried to hold still. Val felt tears, and he swallowed hard. 'Shit shit shit,' it was a long way down.

“I better hear a god damn helicopter in five seconds, or you’re going to hear the sound of your little friend hitting the pavement!” Eric yelled into his phone. Val kept trying to lean further back, but Paul held him firmly. Val felt vertigo on the edge, the wind was whipping at his face, and he kept his eyes open. Find a way he thought in his own mind, 'I can get out of this' he reminded himself, not at all sure, he strained to hear the sounds of a helicopter he knew wasn’t coming. He wondered if there were one of those trampoline things firemen always had in cartoons, did they work? Peter was okay Val held onto that thought.

“What the hell is that?” Paul said, panicky.

“Push him,” Eric said and a strangled sob escaped before Val could shut it down, and he pushed back furiously. There were two gunshots, Val flinched, and Paul dropped to his knees beside Val, he looked at Val, as his eyes started to roll, a bullet hole in his forehead, blood starting to stream from the wound. Val gasped and leaned away.

“No! Val!” Val heard Peter shout. Val’s head whipped around as he saw Peter running towards him, and Val smiled, everything would be okay, but Val felt a tug as Paul’s hand grasped his shirt, Val felt himself start to fall, and he tried to scramble back, but he had no leverage the momentum was on the other man’s side, Val started to fall, he felt his back scrap the ledge, but then there was more pressure, Peter had a leg and his shirt, he was pulling hard, trying to maintain his grip on Val. Val was caught for a moment on both sides, he was too far over ledge, if Peter lost his grip, Val wouldn’t be able to help himself, his hands and back were scraped against the edge, but he was too far over the other side, Val felt himself starting to go more towards Paul, until Paul’s grip was broken by the weight of his own body falling. Peter had his feet braced against the ledge, trying to maintain his hold on Val, and without Paul as the counterbalance, Val suddenly came flying towards Peter causing both men to fall hard on the ground.

“Val, fuck fuck fuck, Val,” Peter was saying, but Peter cushioned most of the fall. Val’s heart swelled, Peter was cutting the zip ties and Val’s arms went around Peter as soon as they were free. Peter hugged back, tightly, stroking Val’s hair, and body, trying to touch all of him, make sure Val was okay, safe. “I love you, I’m sorry,” Peter was murmuring and it was clear he was crying too. “I’ve never been so scared, don’t ever do that,” Peter was admonishing between kisses, and holding Val in a vice grip. “Are you okay?” he was babbling. Val couldn’t respond, didn’t know how to. Words were choked off in his throat, and he buried his face in Peter’s arms as they sat on the rooftop.

When Val finally looked up, more time must have passed then he thought. There were a few cops on the rooftop now. Peter and Val helped each other stand. Val caught sight of Peter’s wrists, bloody and torn. Val winced and looked at Peter, kissing an unblemished part of Peter’s wrist. “Are you okay?” Val asked.

“Am I okay?” Peter asked with a choking laugh, he sucked in a breath, “Are you okay?” Peter asked with his hands on Val’s shoulder. A hand stroked the bruise already forming near Val’s temple. Peter pulled him in again for a too tight hug. Val caught sight of a red poncho on the rooftop. A hand came down on Val’s shoulder and Backstrom hugged them both.

Peter knew Backstrom deserved to have a moment with Val, but Peter couldn’t let him go, not yet. Peter’s heart was beating all over his chest. He’d run to the rooftop and saw them forcing Val on the ledge. He ran, and the two gunshots rang out causing Peter to hesitate for a moment, then the gunman was holding on to Val and Val was going forward even as Val tried to pull back - Peter grabbed him, but his grip didn’t feel sure, Val was slipping away from him. Peter still felt icy terror in his veins. Seconds, seconds away from losing Val forever. Peter squeezed tighter as more tears bubbled to the surface, he knew he was holding him too tightly, but couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t reign in his breathing.

“Let’s get somewhere warm,” Backstrom suggested, pulling back. Peter and Val held onto each other, as they started forward, Val’s leg started to give way. Peter held him, and steadied him. Val limped, leaning on Peter as they made their way back down to his parent’s floor.

A few EMTs were waiting in the hall outside of his parent’s room. The two EMTs tried to separate Val and Peter for examination, but they both protested. “I’m fine, I’ll stay with him,” they both said.

“They’re pretty gay you’re going to have to let them sit next to each other,” Backstrom sighed. Peter and Val exchanged unapologetic looks. They moved together to sit on one of the gurneys and two EMTs split examining Peter’s wrists, and Val’s face, wrist, leg and back. Peter tried to focus on his hands and the questions from the EMTs, but he just kept seeing Val, the look of terror on his face when he started to fall. Peter watched as they treated Val’s wrists, the scraps along his leg and back. Peter abruptly hugged him again.

“Don’t do that,” Peter whispered, not quite sure what he wanted Val to promise. Val hugged him back, as the EMT’s stood back sharing exasperated looks.

“Peter,” he heard a soft voice behind him, Dolly was there looking bewildered. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he said, turning back to hug Val. He didn’t exactly blame his mom for falsely identifying Val as the cop, after all she was just backing Val’s play. There was no mistake though that in her world Val was expendable. He couldn’t talk to her right now.

“Gregory, are you okay?” Dolly whispered, leaning in close. Val and Peter both looked at her.

“Yeah,” Val answered, then lowered his gaze.

“Thank you!” Dolly said too loudly, and then swallowed, “thank you, I’m really sorry,” she said again in a more moderate tone. “I can’t believe you did that. I’m so grateful,” she said, briefly touching Val’s arm and then turning away. Val and Peter watched her walk away stiffly. She made her way back to the apartment where Mark and Frederick looked on, twin expressions of concern and remorse.

“Can you stop hugging each other for two minutes,” Backstrom said exasperated. He pushed between them and stood with his back blocking Peter. “Why the hell did they think you were a cop?” Backstrom said looking Val up and down. Val fished Peter’s badge out of his pocket and handed it to Peter. “And they believed you?”

“Undercover,” Val said licking his lips and his eyes fluttering in their usual mischievous way. Peter’s arm came around patting Val’s arms. Backstrom swatted it away.

“Can you get your paws off my brother for one minute,” Backstrom said, shoving backwards and elbowing Peter. Peter smiled as Val’s hand drifted towards him, and they settled for entwined fingers as Backstrom spoke with Val.

“That was stupid,” Backstrom chastised.

“I know,” Val said nodding his head. Backstrom ruffled his hair.

“How did you get his badge?” Backstom asked, “or do you just hold it for him all the time, like a purse?”

“When they came in, I took it, I didn’t know if they would search us and I knew if they found his badge, they might, overreact,” Val shrugged.

“So you weren’t copping a feel?” Peter asked, putting together Val’s story with the butt grabbing as they were held at gunpoint. Backstrom threw a disgusted look at Peter, and turned his attention back to Valentine.

“Both,” Val said with a sly smile at Peter.

“And what if they found it on you?” Backstrom asked.

“I thought I would talk my way out of it, I don't look like a cop,” Val trailed off, “but then when they said, what they said," Val said rolling his eyes. Peter shook his head, remembering Val pressing against him. Val was too perceptive sometimes, Peter hadn’t thought of any of that.

“I thought you’d be in less trouble when you cut back on your work. I don’t think Peter’s good for you,” Backstrom said, not at all trying to be discreet. The EMTs, and the team exchanged awkward looks at Val and Peter rolled their eyes. “I’m just saying.” The EMT’s applied bandages, ointment, disinfectants and both declined a trip to the hospital for injuries that were not urgent. The hall started to clear and Peter made his way towards his parents, Val still leaning on him for support, his limp slightly improved.

“I’m just going to say goodnight,” Peter said. Val nodded and stood outside the door, leaning his back against the wall. He just wanted to go home and reaffirm life, he jumped as his eyes slid shut, he had a flashback to looking over the ledge.

> _“Push him…” rang in Val’s ears._

Val shook his head as a sudden feeling of vertigo washed over him, he pressed against the wall the sensation of falling caused his stomach to roll. His eyes snapped open and his breathing quickened.

“I’m okay,” he whispered to himself, like his body needed a memo. His legs felt rubbery and he felt his pulse quickening, his ears were starting to ring. He tried to calm himself down.

“Thank you,” the noise startled Val and he jumped. “Are you okay?” Mark asked as Val staggered a little. Mark held out a hand, and Val leaned back against the wall. His head swam as he tried to focus on Mark. “Hey,” Mark said, and his hand went out to support him.

“Hey I said you were cute, come here…” hands reaching for Val, pulling at him

“Don’t,” Val said pushing Mark’s hands away, his vision was dotting, and he felt really sick, and his ears - the buzzing sound - it was so loud.

“Peter,” Mark called, keeping his hands out, as if to catch Val. Val tried to breath through his nose, but things were spinning fast.

Peter was there and both hands were on Val, “what’s happening?” Peter tossed an accusatory look at Mark who backed up shaking his head.

“Can we just go?” Val whispered, squinting his eyes and rubbing his head, trying to clear his vision.

“Do you want to come inside?” Mark asked awkwardly.

“No,” Val panted, a little desperation in his voice, he felt like he was having a bad trip. He was starting to sweat and his pulse was racing.

“I’ll call you,” Peter said to Mark, as he pulled Val into his arms. They made their way to the elevator, Val still felt the racing sensation.

“I just feel sick,” he whispered to Peter. The doors closed and Val had images of standing in the elevator and the gun pressed to his head, his hand drifted to the spot, he could feel the steel sensation, he scratched at the spot. Val tensed and shuttered, he didn’t want to be in the elevator, it was so small, it was hard to breathe in here.

“Val, everything is okay,” Peter whispered, next to him. “You’re safe.” Val licked his lips, sweat was forming, he nodded yes, but closed his eyes tightly. Peter was there, fingers at his throat, checking his pulse. “Hmm” he murmured, pulling Val into his arms, Val grabbed the front of Peter’s shirt and wrapped one arm around Peter.

“You’re okay,” Peter said, kissing Val’s head and holding him tight. Val breathed in deep, Peter’s scent somewhat calming his nerves. He was safe, everything was okay. The elevator glided to a stop, creating that sensation of falling and Val jumped, his arms went out to the walls as if to catch himself. “We’re okay,” Peter soothed, while watching Val intently.

“Sorry, I just feel,” Val trailed off, closing his eyes and rubbing his head. The doors opened, and Val lurched forward, making his way out of the elevator. It was too bright, and loud, and his leg hurt. Val put his hands to his ears, the ringing was so loud. Peter pulled him into an alcove, as Val tried to calm his breathing. “I can’t,” Val said, feeling more light headed.

“Hey,” Peter soothed, Val hugged him tightly, the world stopped spinning a little. He breathed deeply. Val’s breathing started to even out. “Do you want to go?” Peter asked, as Val nodded slightly.

“Just quickly,” Val pleaded softly. Val stayed tucked into Peter, kept his eyes focused on the floor and his feet, and they made their way outside. The wind rushed up against Val’s face, and the vertigo returned, Val flashed to the wind on his face, the ground, so... Val tensed and held Peter, too tightly. Peter bit down on the slight pain, and returned the hug.

“Val, it’s okay,” Peter said, and Val’s grip loosened slightly. “Maybe we should stop at the hospital,” Peter suggested, eyeing Val with concern.

“No, please just get me home.”

Peter tucked Val into the car. Val seemed small, he pulled his feet onto the seat, and buried his head in his knees. He held Peter’s hand, and Peter navigated through the city, one eye on the nonexistent traffic, one eye on Val. Peter’s chest hurt watching him. Peter’s mind wandered back to the confrontation, when Val had clipped his badge. Peter felt inadequate, Val was always one step ahead protecting Peter, and Peter felt helpless. Those minutes, those seconds, Val slipping from his hands. Peter felt tears stinging his eyes. He parked the car, and  
Val peaked out, his eyes haunted.

“I’m really sorry,” Val whispered. Peter leaned in and kissed him.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, except,” and Peter leaned back to look him in the eye, “taking my badge. They were going to kill you because they thought you were me, I can’t live with that.”

Val smiled sadly, “I can’t help it.” Val shook his head. They made their way to the apartment, Val pulled back when they came to the elevator. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he rubbed his eyes. “Okay, let’s do this,” Val whispered. Peter hugged him tight and they stepped into the elevator. Val cried silently riding up and Peter stroked his back.

Val seemed to breathe easier when they latched the door to the apartment. Val launched himself at Peter kissing, pulling at clothes, and Peter met the ferocity of the onslaught, his tongue finding Val’s mouth, delving deep, tearing at clothing. They made their way down the hallway, frantically touching and tasting each other, until they finally found the bedroom. They fell into bed, and Peter went for the drawer grabbing lube, but finding empty condom wrappers. “Wait I have to,” Peter said.

"No, it's fine," Val said quickly, he grabbed a piece paper and shoved it at Peter, "that was going to be more romantic," Val panted, kissing, "test," Val said, his tongue diving into Peter's mouth, "results," Val said, sinking his teeth into Peter's neck as he sucked gently, "clear." Peter tossed the paper aside, and kissed back fiercely. Valentine and he had discussed the possibility of monogamy and Val had insisted they both be tested. Peter had forgotten the results were due back. 

“Just,” Val was breathless, “I need you, now.” Peter hesitated for only a moment, applying lube, and Val thrust his hips, Peter met him, thrusting deep, both men’s eyes rolled at the pleasure, skin to skin. Peter paused for a moment, his hand drifting to Val’s face, Val’s eyes fluttered open and they both fell for a moment, swirling in the attraction, affection, love, Val leaned in and kissed Peter, and Peter began moving against him, holding the kiss. Val threw his head back as orgasm exploded through him, and Peter came just after, riding the pleasure. Val rolled to his side and Peter collapsed behind him, wrapping his arms around Val, and Val grasped Peter’s hands and pulled them to his chest.

Peter made lazy kisses on Val’s neck. “Je t’aime, Ti Amo, Se agapo,” Peter whispered, “I love you. Please don’t do that again, I don’t think I can live without you.” Val held his hands tighter, kissing the tips. Peter’s hands continued stroking, soothing, his lips finding flesh to kiss and nuzzle. Time passed and Peter felt Val’s even breathing. Peter closed his eyes, but couldn’t sleep.

If he had been even seconds later to the rooftop, Val wouldn’t be here, he’d be gone forever. Peter felt his chest constrict and his throat tightened. It’s not the first time Val had almost died for him. Knowing it was coming, Val taking his badge, and deliberately stepping between him and danger. Peter had a brief flash of the gunman saying they were going to toss the cop off the roof and then Val pressing against him. This was no involuntary response, Val heard the danger Peter was in and made a deliberate plan to protect him - one that put Val at risk.

Peter stared for a long time, just watching Val sleep, assuring himself of the steady rise and fall. Visions of making it to the roof and seeing Val on the ledge, knowing it was supposed to be him, he ran, fast, as they started shoving him, Peter could see the red beams of snipers lining up and he ran faster. The shots rang out, and the assailants fell, Val turning to smile at him, then him falling backwards. Peter kept lightly stroking and touching, reassuring himself Val was okay. He noted the scrap marks along Val’s back from when he’d been suspended between the two competing weights. There was a faint white older scar, Peter had noted it, but they hadn’t talked about it. Peter kept finding new little scars everywhere, painting a picture that made his heart ache. These new marks though, these happened because of him, whether he inflicted them himself or not.

Peter wrapped his arms around Valentine, and in his mind made promises to do a better job of protecting Val instead of Val being the one to get hurt all the time. Peter drifted off with Val tucked into his embrace.

***

“Don’t, please,” Val whimpered, he was starting to thrash. Peter woke from groggy sleep, Val was pushing against him, twisting and turning. “Don’t!” Val said more forcefully.

> _“Sweet Gregory, it’s me, I love you...”_

“Val,” Peter tried, holding out a hand to shake him. Val flew upright, backing away in the dark. Peter could see the wild panicky look in Val’s eyes as he retreated, falling off the bed, tangled in sheets. Peter pursued him, and Val was still backing away, until his back hit a wall, his breathing was ragged, his eyes were closed, and he turned his face away, there was nowhere left to go.

“”Val,” Peter said, crouching down. “Val it’s me, okay?” Peter asked. Val nodded, still looking around. Peter reached for him, and Val shook.

> _“Just let me love you, don’t fight, it hurts when you fight...”_

“Please,” Val begged.

“Val, it’s me,” Peter tried again, hands reaching out. Val sobbed as Peter grabbed his hands, Val was shaking hard.

“I’ll do what you want,” Val promised, and he leaned in and kissed him, but it wasn’t Valentine, it wasn’t the kisses he was used to. Peter imagined this was how Val was when he worked. Peter broke off the kiss, and put his hand on Val’s cheek.

“Valentine,” Peter whispered, shaking him again. Val startled and looked around panicky.

“Where?” Val said groggily, looking up and seeing Peter.

“Hey you,” Peter said, settling next to Val. Val leaned his head against Peter, drawing in ragged breaths.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Val whispered. Peter smiled.

“What were you dreaming about?” Peter asked, his hands going to Val’s shoulders, and started massaging.

> _“You’re mine, I love you, tell me you love me,”_

Val shuttered. “Nothing that matters,” Val said, his mouth and teeth finding Peter’s neck. Val’s hands found Peter in the dark and started exploring, finger pads shifting from soft to hard against Peter’s flesh. Something felt off, Val was definitely awake now, but he was performing, distracting. Peter caught his hands and Val looked up questioningly, apprehension in his eyes.

“Val,” Peter said, “if you just want to be close, it doesn’t have to be, you don’t have to do this first.” Val stilled, staring at Peter’s chest, his breathing quickening. “You’re scared, I’ll hold you. I’ll do whatever you need.” Val seemed frozen, so Peter leaned in and put his arms around him.

  
Val tucked into his chest, and tears did fall then, Peter held him closely, soothing with hands, kisses and soft words.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Val whispered harshly.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Peter said. “Today was traumatic.” Peter felt his own tears then. “This is a perfectly normal response.” Val shook his head, still holding tight. “Do you want to stay here or the bed?”

“Bed,” Val mumbled. They lay facing each other. Peter had one hand over Val, and one hand on Val’s face. Val averted his gaze.

“We’ve done a lot of incredible and strange things together, you’re not embarrassed by cuddling?” Peter asked. Val smiled turning his face into the pillow. “I’m here, no matter what you need,” Peter offered.

“I’m rubbing off on you, you sound like a prostitute,” Val muttered into his pillow. Peter laughed, stroking Val’s face. Val moved in closer, burying his face in Peter’s neck. Peter breathed in the scent of him, and continued stroking. Peter drifted to sleep feeling warm and loved even if Valentine wouldn’t say it.

****

Val sipped his coffee as Peter devoured his breakfast. Val felt his pulse quicken and a sense of dread and fear was bubbling up in his throat. He kept trying to push it down, but it was eating away at him.

“I’m very late,” Peter said, looking at his watch. He stood, leaning in to kiss Valentine. “See you tonight?” Val let his hands drift up to Peter’s face and held him for the kiss a little while longer, Peter sighed, “It’s hard to leave,” he lamented. Val smiled.

“You don’t have to,” and Val kept his voice light. He suddenly felt desperate, he didn’t want Peter to leave, he had a bad feeling in his gut, but he couldn’t explain it. He felt a little crazy.

“Are you okay,” Peter asked squinting. Val smiled, and nodded his head. Peter’s phone chirped and it was Moto calling for Backstrom. Peter mouthed goodbye, gave one last kiss and then disappeared. Val locked the door behind him. His heart started racing, and Val took some calming breaths. He made his way to the living room, and stood at the window, but he suddenly felt dizzy the height making his vision swim. There was a static sound in his ears, like a radio switching stations, and memories bled together, haunting him:

> _“Push him!” Val heard the echo of Eric’s command. “Hold him,” another voice said, “hold him still,”_
> 
> _hands grabbing at Val’s jeans, a hand holding the back of his neck, fingers digging painfully..._

Val backed away from the window until his back was against the wall. Val tried to take several deep breaths, he felt sick, and the ringing was back in his ears. Val covered his ears and slid down the wall.

***

Val kept the music low, a softer rock station. The day had passed quickly and Val felt hot and cold flashes, and ill. He’d stayed in bed for a large portion of the day sleeping on and off. He still felt apprehension and he’d sent Peter probably fifteen bullshit texts just to get a response and know he was okay. Val gave himself a mental pep talk. He was fine, he wasn’t very hurt, Peter was okay, everything was fine. Val continued preparing the salad, his eyes nervously dancing to the clock, counting down the minutes until Peter would be home. Val jumped when he heard the key hit the lock and then he schooled his features, bringing the salad to the table, setting the last of the silverware. Val tried to appear normal, but nothing felt right.

Peter came around the hall corner with a smile and Val jumped anyway at the sight of him. He put a hand on the chair to steady himself. “Hey,” Peter said, his brows scrunching. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Val nodded, rubbing his head quickly. “I made food,” Val said gesturing for the table. Peter closed the distance between them, his hands going to Val’s neck, kissing him while keeping his eyes open and watching. Val returned the kiss, feeling his pulse rate slow.

“I’m going to shower first,” Peter said removing his jacket, and loosening his tie.

“Want some help?” Val offered.

“Yes,” Peter said, pulling Val along, as he started to undress them both.

***

Val sipped his coffee, the sense of dread washing over him as Peter was getting ready to leave. Every morning for the last week it was the same routine. The weekend had brought some relief and Val had convinced Peter to spend most of it in bed, but now the work week was back. Val woke with a sense of dread every morning, sometimes in the middle of the night, he slept most of the day, but still felt tired. He busied himself in the apartment. He didn’t go near the windows and he didn’t leave. He was caught in a cycle of feeling ill, but not really. He didn’t know how to explain what was happening, and Peter was obviously picking up on something, but also seemed at a loss. He kept circling Val, hugging him, kissing him, soothing him, and Val did feel safe when Peter was around. The days in the apartment were long, and Val felt watched, tense, apprehensive, if he let his guard down memories assaulted him. Val hadn’t left, offering excuses on the few occasions Peter had suggested it, but Peter had accepted the excuses without question.

Val caught Peter watching him with curiosity and concern, and his response was to love Val and offer comfort, but not to push. Val didn’t know what he would do if Peter did push. He couldn’t say what was wrong. He didn’t know what is wrong.

“Do you want to go away this weekend?” Peter asked, leaning in to kiss Val, watching him from behind long lashes. Val shrugged.

“How about we watch some movies, and camp out in the living room,” Val countered, the thought of leaving the apartment making him ill, “I ordered some movies I’ve been wanting to see, and my leg,” Val said tapping his injured leg. He still limped a little, enough to be able to justify another weekend in anyway.

“Sure,” Peter agreed readily.

Peter left and Val locked the door behind him. Val then ordered some movies for delivery the next day, and went back to bed for several hours. He slept, nightmares, or daymares plaguing his rest. When he opened his eyes, they felt dry and irritated, he rubbed them and glanced at the clock. Had it really been eight hours? Val drug himself back out of bed and showered. When he went to the fridge, he discovered they were a little low on supplies. For a brief moment he contemplated going to the store, and his pulse quickened, the buzzing in his ears starting.

Val swallowed hard, and grabbed his wallet. There was a deli around the corner. He approached the door, and the hallway shifted, seemed to waver and Val closed his eyes and shook his head, one hand pressed against the wall for balance. He reached for the door and he felt sweat break out over his body. He opened the door, and saw the elevator. It made a whirring sound as someone must be riding it up. He heard the ding a few floors below and Val jumped. He rested his head against the door jamb and watched listening to the sound as it got closer to his floor. Val backed into the apartment and shut the door. His breathing was hard and he felt light headed, his throat was constricting, and tears were stinging his eyes. He flipped the lock, and backed away. The dread abating a little.

> _“Don’t leave me, My Sweet Gregory, don’t ever try again,” Piven said tearfully, burning Val with_
> 
> _a cigarette, “you’re my property, nobody loves you as much as I do…”_

Val shook his head to clear the memory, his hand involuntarily going to a scar on his chest.Val grabbed some take out menus and ordered food on his phone app. Peter would be home soon, hopefully he wasn’t looking forward to a home cooked meal. Val backed down the hallway. He caught his own reflection out of the corner of his eye in the window and jumped. He felt his pulse beating hard, and his head was starting to swim. He glanced at the clock, time was slipping by so fast. The ringing in his ears started, and Val gasped, feeling the room press in on him, his vision was blurring and the noise in his ears was getting louder.

_“I love you, why do you do this?” Piven asked, “what do I have to do?” the vision bled again, 0_

_Trippi on the barge, “burn your arm,”_

There was a loud bang, like a car backfire, or a gunshot… Val jumped, and covered his ears, and pressed his back to the wall, willing the noise to stop. His head was throbbing, and there was a stabbing sensation, he could see spots behind his eyes, his chest tightened further and he struggled to suck in air. There was a pounding sound and Val backed away further. He hit the light switch plunging the room into darkness, it was so bright.

> _A vision of being pressed into the dining room table, “This is about learning a lesson, Val“_
> 
> _Trippi pressing against him hard, deep, hurting him, “a lesson..”_

Val slipped into the bedroom, and he felt the vibrations in the building. It felt like the tremors of a small earthquake, the room felt like it was swaying. Val covered his ears tightly and backed into the corner, sliding down the wall. He felt sick and hot, and the buzzing was louder and louder. Tears stung his eyes and fell silently, as he rocked back and forth covering his ears, trying to make it stop, his head was pulsing, he felt clammy, covered in sweat, his heart was racing, he couldn’t breath.

***

Peter got off the elevator and saw someone pounding on his door. A young adult was there with an Asian logo on his hat, holding bags of take out. Peter grabbed his wallet, and jogged to his door. “Hey,” he said.

“It’s a crime to order food and not pay for it,” the kid snapped.

“Sorry, how much?” Peter asked, paying for the food and giving a generous tip.

“I’ve been out here for ten minutes, if you’re going to order food then don’t leave,” he spat. Peter apologized again and took the food. Peter wondered what Val could be doing to not hear the racket the delivery man was making. Peter hoped it wasn’t the loud music again, his apartment manager had been very firm about the volume, of course, maybe Val had put headphones in so he wouldn't bother the neighbors. Peter unlocked the door and made his way into the dark apartment. He flipped the switch, and noted the stillness. Perhaps Val had gone out, and hoped to be back before the delivery. Or he might have gone back to bed, he’d been having headaches lately. Peter loosened his tie and removed his jacket.

“Val,” he called, but there was no response. Peter put the cartons on the counter and then checked the living room, making his way to the bedroom. “Val,”, he called again. Peter opened the door and it was dark except for a small bit of light from a window. “Val,” he said but froze. Valentine was on the floor, his ears covered, rocking, and Peter grabbed his gun, instinctively scanning the room, he went to Val’s side. “Val,” he tried again, touching him, but Val jumped, there was nowhere to go so Val slammed his own head back into the wall with a loud thud in his attempt to put distance between himself and Peter. Val was breathing hard, his eyes were wide with fright and his face had tears streaming down, lines of his make up running. “Val, Val,” Peter called holstering his gun.

Val closed his eyes, and wiped at his face, jamming the palms of his hands into his eyes rubbing hard. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispered. Peter sat on the floor next to him and held him. Tried to soothe him with hands and words. Val eventually let his head fall to Peter’s chest, drawing in long ragged breaths.

“What happened?” Peter asked, stroking his hair, pulling Val closer to him.

“I don’t know,” Val choked out. “I keep getting headaches, and ringing in my ears,” he whispered miserably, sniffing slightly.

“Every day?” Val nodded against him. “We should go to the doctor,” Peter said.

“No!” Val said quickly.

“It could be serious,” Peter explained and he felt Val’s body go rigid as Val shook his head again. “We can see Dr. Livingston,” Peter tried.

“I can’t! I can’t go out there!” Val shouted, his eyes wild as he grabbed Peter and pushed him away. “I can’t,” he said miserably, he closed his eyes and buried his face in his knees, wrapping his own arms tightly around himself into a tense, scared ball.

Peter was shaking his head confused, “what do you mean you can’t go out there?” he held his hands and lightly stroked Val’s hair. Val was shaking still, nervous energy arcing around him. Peter thought for a moment, then slid closer to Val, one arm around him. “Val?” he tried, “have you left the apartment at all?” Peter tried to think since they had come home that night, they’d spent the weekend in, but he couldn’t recall them leaving. He just assumed Val left during the day as he always had. Val was starting to cover his ears again.

“It doesn’t matter,” Peter said, rubbing his back, kissing his neck. “Hey just lay back, okay,” Peter helped guide him to the floor on his back. Peter started rubbing Val’s temples, and massaging his neck, it was like trying to bend steel cords. Peter kept stroking and eventually Valentine’s breathing evened out. Peter was sitting with Val’s head between his legs, massaging and stroking his neck and head. He smiled at Val’s upside face, as Val’s eyes peaked open. Peter leaned over and brushed his lips across Val’s forehead and then his mouth. Val’s hand came up to grasp Peter’s forearm. Then Val slowly sat up and pressed into Peter, finding his mouth and kissing him deep.

“Hey,” Peter said, gently pushing him back. “Wait one second,” Peter said, his hands stroking Val’s face.

“Hmmm?” Val asked, nipping at Peter’s hand, kissing his wrist.

Peter smiled, “Just give me a minute here, I know what you’re trying to do.” Val winced and Peter could see shame spreading across Val’s face. “Hey not, that,” Peter soothed, pulling him in close. “I’m worried about you and I just want to talk. I’ve let myself be distracted, especially by sex.” Val tensed, his breathing getting shaky. “It’s not bad,” Peter tried to soothe. “I’m worried, and I’m sorry, I didn’t notice how upset you were.”

“I’m fine,” Val hedged, his gaze averted.

“You’re not, and I think we should see someone,” Peter started and Val jerked away from him, his breathing increasing rapidly. Peter pursued him gently, his fingers going to Val’s neck to feel his pulse. “It’s okay Val, we don’t have to leave okay?” Val looked at him suspiciously. “And I don’t just mean right now, we never have to leave this place,” Peter said with a smile. “I have a lot of money, we can stay in this apartment forever, have food delivered, have a maid come in, order what we need from the internet and the dozens of delivery apps and service apps we have, we don’t have to leave until you’re ready,” Peter offered. Val half smirked, half smiled, but it did cause his breathing to slow down.

“So there’s no reason to be scared of anything we’re going to talk about, I’m not going to make you do anything, or trick you, or force you in any way,” Peter promised. Val nodded, his hands drifting to his own throat. “Can you tell me a little about what’s been happening?” Peter scooted closer, his arms going to Val’s shoulder. “Just lean back and talk to me,” Peter invited. Val turned and let his head go back against Peter’s lap, and Peter rubbed his shoulders and back again.

“I haven’t,” Val said after a few moments, staring at the wall, “I’m not crazy,” he added, but he didn’t sound convinced himself.

“Let’s start there,” Peter offered softly. “You haven’t what?”

“Left, the apartment,” Val swallowed hard. Peter kept massaging, it was a battle, Val would relax and then tense up, he would still and then start to fidget, it was like his body was at war with itself.

“Can you tell me about that, how come?” Peter asked, working his fingers into a quickly forming knot on Val’s shoulder. Val started breathing fast again, and he shut his eyes.

“I feel sick,” he gasped, “everytime,” Val swallowed hard, and Peter felt him start to sweat.

“That makes sense,” Peter said, nodding his head. Val’s eyes flew open and he eyed Peter suspiciously.

“How does that make sense?”

“It’s a normal reaction to a highly stressful and traumatic incident. A lot of people cope in different ways,” Peter said calmly.

“It’s not in my head,” Val said, “I,” Val said licking his lips. “I know I’m okay, but I can’t breath, there’s this noise in my ears, the world shifts,” Val said, struggling as his breathing again became ragged. He closed his eyes, and his hands drifted towards his ears, but he put them down again and drew in several gulping breaths. Peter saw tears leaking from the corner of his eyes, but Val was obviously trying to reign them in.

“I think I understand,” Peter said, “I’m just sorry I didn’t notice. I’m sorry you couldn’t talk to me.”

“What could I say, don’t leave, I’m terrified to be alone, I’m afraid you’re not going to come home everyday,” Val was grabbing his chest and starting to hyperventilate.

“Here,” Peter said, helping Val adjust his head, “if you do this, it will help,” he said, helping Val get his head lower to the floor. “Put your feet against the wall,”Peter said, lifting Val’s legs to rest against the wall at a 90 degree angle.

“Is it like this all day?” Peter asked. Val shook his head.

“Only if I think about leaving, or go near the window or when you leave, or if I think about what happened, or if you’re late, or if there’s a loud noise, or if it’s too quiet for too long, or if something startles me, or,” Val listed, his hands nervously picking at the carpet. Peter thought for a moment.

“Does anything help?”

“Sex,” Val said, managing to smirk even with his eyes closed somehow. Peter laughed.

“Good to know, anything else.”

“Sleeping, or passing out,” Val shrugged.

“Have you passed out?” Peter asked concern in his voice.

“Twice,” Val said, holding up two fingers, ”but I was already on the floor, so maybe I just fell asleep.”

“Are you eating?” Peter asked, noticing as he studied that Val did seem paler, and thinner. Val’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he seemed to be thinking.

“I don’t remember,” he shook his head. “I make us dinner, I eat then,” he shrugged. Peter thought back and recalled that Val picked at his food, but he didn’t actually consume much. Val was always watching his weight so it didn’t seem abnormal. Val’s make up had been washed away and Peter noted that there were definite bags under his eyes, he seemed tired all of the time. Peter winced and shook his head, what the hell had he been thinking that he missed all of this.

“Can we talk about something else?” Val said, his hands going to his throat as he swallowed hard.

“Yeah, so you said sex helps,” Peter teased, leaning in to kiss him, Val smiled as Peter lifted his shirt, and started to kiss his stomach and chest, pushing Val’s shirt off, Val let his legs drop down, and he tried to get up, but Peter guided him back down, reaching for his pants and undoing them, and helping Val kick them off. Again Val reached for him, but Peter again maneuvered him back down, his hand stroking Val’s cock, and Peter kissed his throat. Val’s breathing quickened, but in a good way. Peter watched as Val sunk into the sensation, and Peter was determined to distract him, to help him drift in ecstasy for as long as possible. Peter used his mouth, tongue and teeth to tease and elicit moans, and pleasure from Val. Val’s hand eventually tangled in his hair as Peter used hands, mouth and tongue on Val’s cock. Val gasped, moaned, and orgasmed, spasming beneath Peter and still Peter worked on him, drifting along his body kissing.

Val’s eyes fluttered open, “let me,” he said, reaching for Peter, but Peter evaded him, and continued kissing and tasting Val, stroking his sides, his mouth wandering up to his stomach, nipping, and kissing. Val’s hand stroked Peter’s cheek, and he looked peaceful, relaxed, loved. Peter smiled, and pulled Val on top of him as he rolled onto his back. Val tried to start his own trail of kisses, but Peter spun them again. “Shower,” her muttered and stood, pulling Val to his feet. Val wrapped his arms around Peter and they made their way to the shower, Val helping relieve Peter of his clothing.

Peter’s hand found the fawcett and he turned the water on, and as he waited for it to warm, he kissed Val, slowly, letting his tongue explore in circles. As soon as it felt warm, he opened the door and both men spilled inside. Val with his back to the wall, and Peter went on his knees fast, his mouth on thigh, then stomach then cock.

“Again?” Val gasped, “I don’t think I can,” but he was cut off as Peter began licking and tasting, Val’s body responded and he pressed against the shower wall as tendrils of pleasure started rippling from his spine. Val was moaning and shuttering. Peter smiled to himself, with a background in forensics and all the different ways to manipulate a body into pleasure, and the fact that his boyfriend was a former prostitute, Peter knew how to get Val to come again and again and how to create pleasure without orgasm. When they finally made it back to the bed, Val was sleeping before Peter’s head hit the pillow.

Peter watched him as he slept, so still, and peaceful. Peter slipped from the bed, and grabbed his phone. He sent a quick email to the Chief requesting time off and cc’d the team that he wouldn’t be in for the rest of the week. Their current case didn’t require his attention and he’d neglected his lover too long already. Peter rubbed his temples. Nothing seemed to get to Val, he couldn't believe he had missed this. He made a quick call to the emergency room, and then he made his way back to bed. Val was already starting to stir, and Peter kissed his temple and stroked him, trying to sooth away the nightmare before it ruined Val’s sleep. He murmured words of safety in Val’s ear, and it seemed to work, as Val stilled and curled into Peter. Peter stared at the clock as the hours slipped by, staying vigilant to any sounds of distress and smoothing them away.

***  
Peter woke with a start as a distant pounding roused him. He blinked several times, and Val also started to wake, sitting up in bed.

“What?” Val muttered and the pounding was clearly coming from their front door. Peter looked at the clock it was 4am. Peter pushed the sheet aside, grabbed his pants and retrieved his gun from his holster. Val’s breathing was ragged and he was trembling, pressing back against the headboard his hands going to his temples.

“Hey,” Peter said his hand on his shoulder, “it’s okay, just wait here.” Val’s head snapped up at that and his vision cleared.

“No way, give me your backup piece,” Val said firmly, pulling on his own pants. His hands shook a little, but he was determined.

“Val, no, just wait here, it’s probably a drunk neighbor at the wrong apartment.” Val shot a look at Peter’s gun and Peter shrugged.

“Fine,” Val said, and went to the closet, he came back with a baseball bat, and opened the bedroom door. Peter rolled his eyes, stepped forward first, and made his way to the front door on thieves feet, not even making a sound.

“Niedermayer!” he heard Backstrom yell, and Peter sighed and lowered his gun. Peter passed his gun back to Val, who took it to the bedroom and returned it to Peter’s holster and tossed the bat back in the closet. Peter opened the door, and Backstrom was there, drunk with an apologetic and sleepy looking Moto. Backstrom pushed his way in.

“What the fuck is going on?” Backstrom demanded. “Valentine!” he yelled. Val came out of the bedroom wearing a robe Peter noted.

“Quiet,” he hissed, but Val froze as soon as he saw the open door, and he put his hand out to steady himself, his other hand rubbing his closed eyes. Peter shut the door quickly, and rushed back to Valentine.

“What are you doing here?” Peter snapped softly at Backstorm.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Backstrom shot back fiercely.

“I live here, and I sleep here, at 4am,” Peter sighed exasperated.

“What’s wrong with you?” Backstrom slurred at Valentine. Valentine looked at him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Val snapped back.

“I was trying to sleep, and this asshole said something was wrong,” Backstrom explained pointing at Peter.

“I didn’t say anything to you,” Peter said, “I was here, sleeping like people do at 4am.”

“You,” Backstrom sighed, leaning against the wall for support, and waving his phone. “This,” Backstrom said, “with the envelope thing. You’re not going to work, you always go to work and annoy the shit out of me, even when you're sick, so Valentine is broken or something.”

“Jesus Backstrom, it’s time to sleep it off,” Val said, going to Backstrom’s side ducking under and putting Backstrom’s arm around his neck so he could help him into the living room.

“Where’s your shirt? Oh God were you and Niedermayer having sex. That better be sticky sweat and not sticky Niedermayer on me,” Backstrom barked, wiping his hand on his pants as Val shoved him onto the couch.

“Nobody was having anything, everyone was sleeping,” Val insisted, "get two aspirin and a glass of water," Val instructed Moto and Peter.

Backstrom smiled and poked Val in the chest, “I used to live with you, you never slept when you were with someone,” Backstrom said with a wink, "but why with Niedermayer," Backstrom said rolling his eyes. Val gave him the aspirin and some water, then left the glass by the couch. Peter watched and got the sense, that this was how things were on the barge, Val taking care of Backstrom, which explained a lot of the risks Backstom took for Valentine.

Val smirked and covered Backstrom with a blanket. “Just sleep it off,” Val said as Backstrom lay back on the couch his eyes closed, muttering something under his breath. Val kissed Backstrom's forehead, and  a fleeting smile went across Backstrom's face. 

“I should go,” Moto half asked half stated. Peter nodded.

“Sorry Moto, thank you for bringing him safely.” Peter closed the door behind Moto and went to Val standing in the hallway.

“So much for a good night’s sleep,” Peter said, wrapping his arms around Val, and Val rubbed his eyes.

“There’s still time,” Val said grabbing Peter’s hand and making his way towards the bedroom. They fell into bed, and Peter could see Val was moving with nervous energy. Clearly trying to manage whatever anxiety was washing over him.

“Want me to tell you a bedtime orgasm?” Peter asked in a husky tone, pouncing. Val laughed, as Peter’s hands and mouth went to work. Peter soaked in the sound of Val’s genuine laugh, he actually couldn’t remember hearing Val laugh lately. After Peter delivered on his bedtime promises, Val drifted off to sleep tucked into Peter’s arms. Peter breathed in the scent of him and fell into some pleasant dreams of his own.

Val slipped out from under Peter’s arm as soon as he was sure he was asleep. Val tiptoed to the closet and went through his jackets. His breathing was ragged and he tried to slow it down. He needed to sleep, and if he didn’t Peter wasn’t going to sleep either. Val felt like if he could just rest and not be swallowed by nightmares, maybe he would be okay again. He found one of his super-illegal horse tranquilizers from Holland. He broke it in half, but then took both halves. Val went back to sleep pressing close to Peter, who even in his sleep reached out and held Val.

***  
“I didn’t think a Backstrom solution was needed here,” Val vaguely heard Peter whisper shout. Val was drifting on the last vestiges of his tranquilizer. The downside to being a recovering drug addict was that nothing worked exactly the way it was supposed to. Val sighed and tried to get out of bed. He shouldn’t leave Peter to deal with Backstrom alone. Val turned in the bed but he was tangled in the sheets.

“Why are you staying home with him?” Backstrom snapped. “I’m you, I haven’t missed work except for a forced suspension. Val hasn’t been to the station in weeks, since it happened. Now you’re taking a vacation. Something is wrong with my brother,” Backstorm accused.

“Yes, something is wrong, but I don’t think he needs yelling and sarcasm” Peter tossed back.

“What does he need? To be cooped up here fulfilling all of your sexual fantasies, is that the cure?”

“Valentine is hardly a booty call for me. You know how I feel about him,” Peter finished softer.

“Yeah, and now you can keep him here until he falls in love with you,” Backstrom spat. “He was fine until,” and Backstrom trailed off.

Silence filled the air and Val thought he must have fallen back asleep.

“I know he’s suffering because of me,” Peter said, and there was such anguish in his voice.

Val pushed himself up on the pillows, but his body - as was it’s will lately - wouldn’t listen to his brain and he sank back down into the pillows.

“I just want to see him,” Backstrom said softly. “I didn’t mean it. No one tells Valentine what to do, and I know you didn’t let him do anything.”

Val rolled onto his back, and he saw the door crack open and Backstrom stuck his head in. He made his way over to the bed and sat down. “Oh God are you naked?” Backstorm complained half heartedly.

“Oh God are you sober?” Val complained back. Backstrom looked at him.

“Did you take one of those horse tranquilizers?” Backstrom asked. Val nodded. “Too bad you don’t have the constitution of a lion.” Val smiled.

“Are you worried about me?’ Val teased.

Backstrom looked away, and then stared back, “Yes. A lot.” Val swallowed hard, and tried to sit up.

“I’m okay,” he offered. Backstom shook his head.

“If you don’t want me to pretend to be you, don’t lie to me,” Backstrom said.

Val rolled his eyes, “I especially don’t want you to pretend to be me in that outfit,” Val complained.

“I’m glad we didn’t grow up together,” Backstrom said gruffly. Val tensed, the comment stinging. “I grew up with brothers, and I hate them. I don’t hate you,” Backstom said with a sigh, casting a sidelong glance at Valentine.

“I don’t hate you either,” Val said softly, relaxing a little.

“Can I help?” Backstrom asked, looking away.

Val swallowed. “I don’t know,” he said with anguish. Then he added, “you could be nice to Peter.”

“So what I’m hearing is there is absolutely nothing I can do,” Backstrom said nodding his head. Val gave him a dirty look. “I don’t really know how to be a good brother, should I hug you?” Backstrom said uncomfortably.

“Only if you want me to kick you in the fucking jaw,” Val teased.

“Is he,” Backstrom nodded towards the door, and then Backstrom shrugged, “taking care of you.” Backstrom paused for a moment, “No don’t answer, I don’t mean that.” Val smirked, batting his eyelashes.

“I miss living at the barge,” Val said.

“You can come back,” Backstrom offered quickly, his head swiveling to look at Valentine. Val looked down. “But you probably get more sex with a live in,” Backstrom smirked. “If you need anything,” Backstrom trailed off.

“I know,” Val said.

There was a soft tap at the door and Peter pushed in carrying a plate. “Breakfast?” he asked, making his way to the bed. He was wearing jeans and long sleeve shirt, it clung to him in delicious ways that made Val hungry, but not for whatever was on the plate.

“Oh god, put your tongue back in your mouth, you undressed him with your eyes and now I’m picturing Niedermayer naked,” Backstrom complained rubbing his eyes. Val smiled seductively in Peter’s direction, and Peter blushed.

“Some of us have to work today,” Backstrom said, rising. “You’ll be okay?” Backstrom asked holding out his hand for an airshake. Val nodded and put his hand out, shaking it from a distance as they often did. Backstorm ruffled his hair and gave Peter a dirty look and left.

Peter climbed on the bed, grabbed a fork full of eggs. “I made you breakfast.” Val smiled but his eyes drifted to the hallway. He flinched when the front door shut loudly. Peter came closer, curling his legs, and putting the plate in his lap. Peter leaned in and kissed Val, but Val barely returned it and looked around Peter. Val’s hands were trembling.

“I’m just going to lock the door,” Val said, shakily.

“I got it,” Peter said rising quickly and disappearing down the hallway. Val sighed deeply. This had to stop, he couldn’t keep up with the constant worry and fear. Peter was back and picking up the plate again.

“Is that bacon?” Val tried to lighten the mood.

“Yes,” Peter said. They both had a few bites, before Val undressed Peter figuratively and then literally,


	3. Time Doesn't Always Stand Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, to go forward, you have to go back. Valentine and Peter deal with the aftermath of emerging emotions, trauma and a past that didn't stay buried. 
> 
> This piece could be triggering. Graphic description of Val's past. Please note keywords in selecting to read this story or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good is good, but bad is better.  
> Kudos are good, but comments are better :) 
> 
> I think of Valentine as one of the toughest characters on the show, it's difficult to balance that against acknowledging the pain he's experienced. I like that he can cry in one scene and then threaten someone with a lamp in the next. I feel like he's more real in that way - aren't we all complex?

  
  
  


Val had gone to sleep halfway through the day. He just couldn’t keep his eyes open and as good as it was to have Peter home, he could feel Peter watching him. Val wished he could will himself better. It was one thing to suffer in a private hell, but watching it impact Peter made things worse. Val drifted in and out of sleep. He heard voices, and he opened his eyes. He looked out the window and it was definitely a night time. He pulled himself out of bed, and rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he actually heard voices now. He was always waking up and didn’t trust reality. He had to get out of here, he had to try, if for no other reason than to let Peter off the hook. Maybe they could just go to dinner, but as Val’s feet touched the floor, he felt a wave of nausea. 

 

_ “You will never leave me,” came a haunting voice from the past. _

 

“Okay, come on,” Val chastised himself. But the walls were starting to bend, and the ringing was starting. Val winced, and pushed thoughts of going out from his mind. He’d just go to the kitchen, no further. Val made his way out of the bedroom, slowly. He wondered if Peter had left.

 

"I'd feel more comfortable if we could get him to the hospital," Val heard Dr. Livingston say. Val tiptoed to the doorway and peaked around. Peter was sitting with his back to the door, and Val saw Dr. Livingston and Collin in his living room. “I think we do need a CT Scan, I'd like to consult the psychiatric team as well, is there some way we can get him there?” Dr. Livingston was saying. Val slipped back around the corner without being seen.  _ ‘What were they doing here?’  _ Val felt panic grip him, they could force him to go, what if they called an ambulance, what if Dr. Livingston was going to have him committed. Val felt his chest constrict, he could feel his blood pulsing through his veins, the hallway started to warp and he kept his hands pressed against the walls so the room didn’t spin as much.

 

_ “Come on!” an angry voice demanded, arms wrapped around Val’s throat from behind dragging him backward away from street…  _

 

Val crept back towards the bedroom. Why would they be here? Val tried to think but the ringing was starting, he had to get away, but he couldn't go anywhere he was trapped, unless he left, Val saw the front door, but tears sprang to his eyes, he couldn't go anywhere. 

 

_ Val made it to the door, he tried the handle,  locked, it wouldn’t budge. “Sweet Gregory, come back, I can’t let you go,” Piven said, Valentine slid to the floor in front of the door, he was trapped... _

 

A small sob escaped, as he had visions of being dragged out of the apartment and dropped off in some asylum, the ringing was so loud, and it was so bright in the hallway, he squeezed his eyes shut, he covered his ears, the sound increasing in tempo, his head throbbing. He had his back to the bedroom door but it was closed, Val hadn’t remembered shutting it. 

 

“Val,” Peter called softly, but the noise was muted, Val barely heard the sound through all the roaring, he just had to get away. Hands were on him. 

 

“No!” Val shouted and pushed hard. Peter made a slight intake of breath, as Val shoved him, they made eye contact as Peter recoiled. “I’m sorry,” Val whispered, shrinking against the wall.

 

“No, it’s okay,” Peter said, moving toward him again, now that he was sure Val knew it was him, he reached gently, pulling Valentine to his chest, his arms around him.

 

“It’s so loud,” Val said miserably. Peter held him, and went to the floor with him as Val kneeled, his breathing coming too fast. Peter put his hands over Val’s ears too, and held him tight kissing the back of his head. Val’s head was between his knees and that stopped some of the spinning. The noise was still loud but starting to fade, Peter’s hands were rubbing the back of his neck which was relieving some of the pounding pressure.  Val felt traitorous tears slipping from his eyes, he tried to command his body to reign it in, but he didn’t have control anymore. Slowly, his breathing leveled out, and the noise settled to a dull background buzzing. Peter was holding him, kissing him, rubbing his back. Val registered the comfort and breathed deeply. He sat up slowly and put his head against Peter’s chest. “I can’t make it stop,” Val whispered. 

 

“I know,” Peter said. 

 

“I didn’t mean to push you,” Val said, “it’s not okay.”

 

“It’s fine,” Peter soothed, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

 

Val lifted his head and looked at Peter and caught Dr. Livingston and Collin out of the corner of his eye, he’d forgotten about them for the moment. He licked his lips, as tears stung. “If you want me to go, I’ll go,” Val whispered, “but maybe you could give me something to knock me out, I don’t think I make myself go on my own,” Val suggested.

 

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked, shaking his head, “I don’t want you to go anywhere.” 

 

“They aren’t here to take me to the ER or some” Val made a gesture indicating his head, “kind of place,” Val asked nodding in their guests direction, and then looking away again.

 

“Is that what you thought?” Peter said, grabbing Val’s face and turning to look him in the eye. “No, of course not,” he said, his face twisted in shock. “They’re here to help you here,” he said, pointing at the floor. “Val,” he whispered, the back of his hand brushing Val’s cheek, pressing his lips softly against Val’s. “I meant it, you’re safe here, you never have to leave,” Peter reaffirmed. Val nodded with his eyes closed. 

 

“I,” and Val shook his head, what could he say, sorry. He couldn’t explain anything. Val’s was tense, his hands holding his own neck, pulling at his collar. Peter stood, pulling Valentine slowly with him. Val was rigged in his arms. “Are they still there?” he whispered.

 

“Yeah,” Peter said nodding. 

 

“I don’t think I can face them,” Val winced. 

 

“Valentine,” Dr. Livingston said softly. Val peaked out from behind Peter’s shoulder.

 

“Hey doc,” Val returned. He sniffed, and straightened his back. He pulled away from Peter, but held his hand still. He wasn’t quite ready not to have an anchor. He felt shaky and embarrassment wasn’t helping. 

 

“Sorry to drop in on you, can we talk?” Dr. Livingston invited. Val pictured the big window, in the living room, the long drop.

 

“How about the dining room,” Val offered. Livingston nodded and Peter led them all into the dining room. Peter and Val took chairs next to each other, and Peter winced as Val’s handholding varied between tender and painful. Peter was fairly certain Val was unaware of the varied pressure.

 

“Peter invited us to see you,” Livingston opened. Val nodded, looking down. 

“Because I’m crazy,” Val said lightly. 

 

“Because I’m crazy,” Peter whispered, “about you.” Val smiled as he looked down and squeezed lightly. 

 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Collin said, and Val turned to face him. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” 

 

“It’s good to see you,” Val said, his eyes drifting around the room having a hard time focusing. 

 

“I’m finishing up my clinicals and I get my doctorate in a few weeks,” Collin said. 

 

“Will you join your dad at the ER?” Val asked, grateful to have something to talk about.

 

“No,” Collin said, “I’m getting my doctorate in Psychology.” 

 

“That’s great,” Val said licking his lips, and he glanced at Peter with a ‘you think I’m crazy look’. Peter kissed Val’s hand.

 

“I mean, I can’t be your therapist, but maybe I can help a little. I owe you,” Collin said. Val rubbed his temples. 

 

“Valentine,” Dr. Livingston interjected, “if we may, I’d like to just look you over, take some vitals. I’d really like to get you down to the office and run some more tests.” Val tensed immediately. “Not now though, not today, not until you want to,” the doctor said quickly. "Can we start with that?” Val nodded, what choice did he have, Peter was obviously worried, and he was bending over backwards, Valentine could hardly refuse. 

 

Dr. Livingston retreated to get his bag and Val felt his throat constricting. Peter and Collin were staring at him, and it was making his pulse race. It felt hot in the room, and it was so bright. Val tried to focus, to drift into that place in his mind when he had to take a bad trick. 

 

“How about if we give you and Dr. Livingston some space?” Peter offered. Val nodded again grateful, he couldn’t exactly ask Peter to leave after he had asked him to stay home with him, but the room felt small, and there wasn't enough air.

 

Val nodded, it was hard to talk. He had to focus on breathing slowly as the walls started to close in.  Livingston turned off the overhead light and clicked on a lamp. It helped the pounding. Dr. Livingston’s gentle hand on his knee startled him.

 

A hand on Val’s knee, “you’re so pretty,” rough hands, forcing his knees apart, violence, pain, then money, “You fucking whore, here” came a rough voice shoving money into Val’s hands “ I paid you, it’s over, do you hear me?”  He hissed, grabbing Val, shaking him “you stupid fucking whore are you listening to me?…”

 

“Val, are you listening? I’m just going to take some vital signs okay?" The doctor explained pulling out a stethoscope, thermometer, a reflex hammer, Val had trouble focusing. The doctor reached for him, and Val instinctively jerked back. 

 

_ Val straining to pull away. "Hey, I said you were pretty” Piven said steering the car into a deserted alleyway.  Val hd a sinking feeling, but he was going to get things over with quickly. Piven stopped the car and looked at him, “ I complimented you say thank you,” Val could still feel the sting on his face after he was backhanded, Piven was on top of him, and Val was swinging back, but something was over his mouth, rough angry hands, getting punched, fighting back…. Darkness descending rapidly, his arms going limp. _

 

"Is it okay if I take your wrist?” Livingston asked. Val nodded, and the doctor took his hand and felt his pulse.

 

"Stop fighting, give me your Goddamn hand," Piven said, a hand from the shadows, taking his wrist, tying it to a bedpost… 

 

"Can I listen to your chest?" Dr. Livingston said, one hand on Val's shoulder, the other moving the little metallic disk around on his chest, pressing it in. 

 

_ Val straining against ropes, as a cigarette was pressed into his chest over and over...  _

 

"Val, you can say no, I'd like to lift your shirt and listen," Dr. Livingston tried. Val held up his shirt, and the Doctor pressed the disk in, gently placing one hand on Val's back. 

 

_ "Take your clothes off..." so many voices blending together, Val couldn't pick out an actual memory. _

 

Livingston used a stethoscope to listen to his heart and lungs, had Val take deep breaths. He used a pen light to check Val’s eyes, but it was too bright and searing pain shot through Val's head, as he flinched away. “It’s okay,” the doctor said, clicking off the light. Val felt his heart racing, the ringing was returning and Val tried to disappear inside himself. He told himself over and over again he was safe, but his body didn’t seem to notice or care, he just wanted to run or hide. The blood pressure cuff tightened around his arm, and Val tensed, it felt too tight, pinching, it hurt.

 

_ Rough hands holding him from behind "stop struggling!", like a vice grip around both his arms... _

 

“Your blood pressure is incredibly high Val, are you feeling anxious right now?” the doctor asked. Val nodded, as tears stung his eyes. Breathing was difficult, and he held his throat as swallowing became harder. He knew he had to calm down, he knew he was safe, but his mind was drifting back and forth through time, and his body couldn't keep up, he knew where he was, but it felt like he was elsewhere. "Val I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I think you know you're special to the people here," Dr. Livingston tried to soothe. 

 

_ "You know how special you are, I chose you, and you're so fucking ungrateful," Piven snapped, "I love you and you act like just some fucking whore!" An image of Trippi spitting on him, Trippi demanding that Val say he loved him, Peter saying he loved him, the boogeyman saying he loved him as he pressed a lit cigarette into his chest, tell me you love me Gregory... Dr. Livingston examining the cigarette burns, “what happened to you?”   _

 

Val,” Dr. Livingston called softly, reaching out to touch Val's shoulder with a gentle hand, but Val jumped anyway. “Can you open your eyes?”

 

"You're safe here, I'm just going to collect some evidence for this kit? Have you had any recent consensual partners?" Val thought, 'did he? Was it consensual?' "Tell me how much you love it," Piven hissed in his ear, "you need me as much as I need you, you love it," he said thrusting as Val buried his face in the pillow, hoping it would end soon...

 

"Valentine, I want you to try to relax, I know it’s hard, can you hear me?"

 

_ "Just relax, I love you, I’m not like them,” Piven said, laying on top of him, pressing into him, whispering in Val's ear, Val’s head turned away, tears running down his face, “this is love, I love you, look at me…it’s okay because I love you, tell me it's okay!” _

 

“Just tell me if you're okay, we can stop, Valentine,” the doctor called softly. Val felt himself rocking, and tears on his face, the buzzing was so loud, he pressed his hands more tightly against his ears again, a vague idea that he was embarrassed crossed his mind, but it only made the rising panic intensify. “Tell me what’s wrong?” the doctor invited, but his voice was distant, Val couldn’t hear him over the rushing sound in his ears. 

 

_ "What’s wrong with you, you’re mine, you belong to me, can’t you see how much I love you? You fucking whore" hands slapping him, pulling at him."Why do you make me hurt you? You like it, you like punishing me!" Piven accused. "Do you understand you are making me do this? Do you understand?!" _

 

“understand me?... Valentine, do you understand me?” he heard in the distance, hands shaking him gently. 

 

_ “Tell me you love me,” Trippi demanded “Tell me you love me,” Piven said,”if I just knew you loved me, it wouldn’t be so bad,” Piven promised, he was pressed so close, Val's hands were secured to the bedpost, he couldn't move any further back. “I love you,’ Val said through tears, fear shaking his voice. “Oh My Sweet Gregory,” Piven whispered, he grabbed his cigarette, “this one is special, this one marks our love,” and he pressed deeply into Val’s chest, holding it longer than he had done the others. “Whenever we look at it, we’ll remember how much we love each other, say you love me,” Piven demanded, he pressed harder grinding the cigarette, “say it!” “I love you,” Val sobbed, “I love you,” Val said again automatically, "You're so happy you're crying," Piven said stroking Val's face, kissing his mouth, Val’s jaw went slack as Piven deepened his one sided kiss, it was hard to breath, his chest burning and stinging.  _

 

“I can help, just talk to me,” the doctor’s tone sounded more panicky, a hand on his leg, "maybe you should lay down," 

 

_ "Lay down," Piven said, and then grabbed Val's leg and pulled when he didn't move fast enough. Val was on his back, his arms taut as he reached the end of the bindings, Piven climbed on top of him, face to face, licking the fresh burn mark symbolizing their 'love. "You just said you fucking love me, don't you fucking flinch when I touch you," Piven growled, undoing his own pants, Val tensed. "Don't do that, don't act like you're scared of me, I treat you so good," Piven said, grabbing Val painfully by his hair, "You are not afraid of me!" _

 

"You don't have to be afraid," Livingston was saying, a hand on Val's cheek trying to rouse him. 

 

_ Val felt the hand in his hair as Paul held him over the ledge, it was so far down, ”push him”... falling...Blackness, the sound cut off, and then Val didn't feel anything at all. _

 

Val felt pressure in his head first. His eyes opened painfully and he was staring at the ceiling, Peter was at the edge of his vision, he looked concerned, Val’s eyes fluttered, and he turned his head with a small groan. His chest hurt and his fingers instinctively went to the burns, they hurt, he grimaced. 

 

“Val,” Peter whispered softly. Val couldn’t remember how he got there, time was lapsing in jagged patterns, he didn’t know if it was day or night. What had he been doing? He remembered falling off the roof, no wait he hadn't. Peter was holding a cloth covered in blood. “Hey,” Peter whispered his hand on Val’s face, stroking gently. 

 

“Hey,” Val said hoarsely, covering Peter’s hand with his own. Val started to sit up, but Peter put a hand on his chest.

 

“Just give it a second,” Peter said, his fingers drifting to Val’s neck, checking the pulse. Val felt another hand on him and he jumped. Dr. Livingston drifted into his vision, strapping a blood pressure cuff to Val’s arm again, and using his stethoscope to take vitals.

 

“Does that happen a lot?” he asked directing his question to Peter.

 

“Maybe twice. The stuff leading up to it a couple of times, but not passing out and not nose bleeds,” Peter said.

 

“Who’s bleeding?” Val asked groggily, tasting copper at the back of his throat. 

 

“You are, but it’s fine, it’s just a nosebleed,” Peter soothed, his thumb tracing a line on Val’s face. Val still felt lightheaded and there was a throbbing in his head, but it was manageable. 

 

Val sat up, and Peter helped him do it slowly. It didn’t increase or decrease the dizzy feeling. Val flushed, feeling embarrassed, as Peter and Livingston watched him with sad and cautious eyes. Val came to the realization that he must have fainted, his chair was knocked over, the distant memory of Livingston examining him. Val closed his eyes, his breathing starting to come quick again. 

 

“Val,” Peter whispered softly in his ear and Val swallowed, and tried to still himself. Arms tentatively came around him and Val leaned into him. Peter pulled Val’s back against his chest, and put his hand over Val’s heart. “Val,” he whispered, close to his ear, “I just want you to try to breath with me, okay? Can you feel my breathing.” Val nodded. Peter was taking slow breaths in and Val tried to focus on his movements, tried to match it. He felt warm, and safe, and Peter’s scent was beginning to trigger a comfort that spread through his soul. Peter was murmuring in his ear but Val focused on the rise and fall of his chest. He focused on matching the rhythm and his throat started not to hurt as badly, and he could feel his hands again. He could open his eyes, but he was embarrassed and what would he say anyway?

 

Instead Val leaned into Peter and let himself relax. Peter held him, his hands wrapped around him. Peter dropped a soft kiss on his neck. 

 

Val rolled his head back so he could see Peter, he let his eyes drift open , “I don’t think I’m up for company,” Val whispered, and he hated that it sounded like a plea, he wasn't a wimp! He swallowed a few times, his hands clenching and unclenching. He hated his body, he didn't have any control over it anymore - he felt disconnected. 

 

“We won’t stay long, I’m giving you a prescription to help you sleep,” Dr. Livingston said holding out two pills. Val took them without looking, and swallowed both before the doctor finished. The doctor looked down and then back up catching Peter’s eyes. "You'll manage his prescriptions," the doctor said more than asked, "one pill," Livingston said, then just shook his head.

 

“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable,” Peter said, standing helping Val to his feet. Doctor Livingston held out his hands, but as soon as he touched Valentine, Val jerked back hitting Peter and a table, Peter held out his hands to steady Val as the table, and its contents flew to the floor. The lamp made a loud crashing sound which caused Val to jump the other way, pressing his back to the wall. He put his hands to his head "God damnit," he muttered softly even more embarrassed. Why couldn't he control himself? He'd been in far more dangerous situations than a boyfriend's apartment sorrounded by people who wouldn't dream of hurting him, what the fuck was wrong with him? "I'm sorry," Val said miserably, 'was that his voice? Pathetic!' he chastised himself internally. 

 

"I've always hated that lamp," Peter said. Val laughed a little his head pressed back against the wall as he gave Peter a smirk. Peter had asked Val to  pick out some things for the apartment awhile ago to help make Val feel more at home. Val had resisted and Peter had made the same comment then when he'd appealed to Val to help him pick some stuff out. 

 

"Guess you'll have to help me replace it," Peter smiled, leaning in his hands going to Val's waist. Val narrowed his eyes in a playful way. "You look like you need a shower," Peter murmured against his ear. 

 

"Let me get the," Val started for the lamp and its scattered contents. 

 

"No, don't," Peter said, "Please, let me get it later." Val nodded, not particularly wanting to stay with their guests any longer. 

 

"Valentine,"  The doctor stepped forward like he would help, but Val flinched there was nowhere to go but his body instinctively pressed harder against the wall.

 

"I'm sorry, I'm not afraid of you," Val tried to explain, he couldn't control it, his body didn't care what he thought, everyone was a threat except Peter and Backstrom. 

 

Peter walked with Val back to their room, and Val ducked into the bathroom, as Peter hurried to get rid of their guests. 

 

Valentine flicked on the light, his face had some dried blood on it from his nosebleed, and his shirt was streaked with blotches of blood, his eyes were bloodshot, and he closed his eyes a memory drifting across his vision. 

 

HERE 7/1/19 3:58PM

 

_ "Everything is going to be okay Gregory, my sweet Gregory, I love you," Val was curled on the floor, blood running down his face. He'd slipped his bonds, and Piven was pissed. Val knew he wasn't going to get away, and he hadn't tried this time knowing the door was locked. Instead he'd pocketed the drugs Piven had dosed him with, and had slipped them into the bourbon Piven liked to drink. Val never saw him with it, but Val smelled it on PIven’s breath, to this day the smell of it turned his stomach and transported him to unpleasant places.  It would take some time, but when Piven was out, Val would make a run for it, and until then he would survive. Piven stood over him, and Valentine got to his knees, his hands going to Piven's belt, if he could keep from getting tied up again.  _

 

Val turned on the shower, stripping out of his clothes, he felt his blood pressure spike when he thought about other people in the apartment. He felt vulnerable, and locked the bathroom door. He took some deep breaths, he had to get his head together, he couldn’t live like this. 

 

" I just wanted to do something special for you, to surprise you," Val promised, Val pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, and held it up there was a heart drawn around it and their initials, it was stupid and ridiculous but Valentine had used most of his freedom to dose the bourbon, the drawing had been a last minute decision in hopes of distracting Piven. Piven hesitated, but his hand went to Val's cheek and hair, gently this time. 

 

Val stepped into the shower and let the water wash over him. He felt like a prisoner all over again. He had pushed all of the bad stuff far from his mind, and never let it get to him beyond the initial nursing of his wounds. He felt helpless against it, and through everything, he’d always been able to count on himself. Now, he couldn’t even do that, and he felt disorientated. He never knew what his own body was going to do minute to minute. 

 

_ "You can't say you love someone and lie to them, do you know that?" Piven explained. Val nodded, his mouth going to Piven's arousal, Val went to work, taking his time, wanting to draw it out. It was hard not to rush, but he needed to buy time, he had to get Piven to trust him. He didn't have any illusions that Piven would trust him completely, and Piven was playing on a different reality. Piven was loving and gentle, and then brutally violent with no seeming trigger. Val did everything he could to ride out the revulsion. He made his body not react. He finished, and Piven moaned, jerking and spasming. Val watched him, his head down, watching from under his lashes, Piven switched, he smacked Val hard and Val went to the ground, he caught himself and all of his reflexes wanted to spring up and defend himself, to hit back, but he didn't, he stayed there and Piven, reached down grabbing Val, pressing him against the wall and hand squeezing hit throat, Val wanted to pull the hand away, but he needed to buy time.  _

 

" _ I'm sorry" Valentine said. _

 

_ "If you're lying to me," Piven threatened, and he bounced Val's head off the wall. Val could hear the fear in Piven's voice. "I love you, and if you are," Piven said through tightly clenched teeth, but didn't finish. _

 

_ "I'm not, I'm not," Val said softly, finding it difficult to breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't think," Val said, and Piven was loosening his hold, kneeling next to Valentine, his hand drifting to Val's neck, not pressing anymore. Val held his hand gently, "I didn't think," Val said, letting his eyes flutter, "someone like you could love someone like me," Val confessed, looking down, "I didn't think I deserved it," Valentine said, trying to keep his naturally mocking face from giving him away. Piven was stroking his face now. _

 

_ "I  _ **_do_ ** _ love you," Piven promised.  _

 

_ "I know," Val said nodding his head, "I know now, I just didn't before." _

 

_ "It can be really great, we can be here together, alone," Piven emphasized. Val nodded.  _

 

_ "Gregory, don't lie to me okay?" Piven asked, his voice pleading. "I couldn't take it, I don't know what I would do." _

 

_ "I don't want to make you hurt me anymore, I'm sorry I did that," Valentine promised. He could tell that Piven's paranoia was getting to him.  _

 

_ "Maybe we should get you back to bed," Piven suggested, but there was a threat in his voice. _

 

_ "Yes, of course," Val said, standing with him and going to his room. His legs wants to rebel but he resolved to walk forward, not to provoke Piven, it would all be over soon, if he could just control himself. Valentine sat on the bed and held his hands to the post, as Piven started to loop the ropes. "Maybe later," Valentine said, "I could give you a massage, I've made you so tense, I'm so sorry," Valentine said, he tried to mix his typically sultry look with something that resembled the loving looks Piven had given him. Piven finished knotting the rope, and stroked Valentine's cheek.  _

 

_ "I'm not going to leave you untied," Piven said evenly, "it's safer for you," he explained using no actual logic or reason. _

 

_ "I know, you take good care of me and keep my safe. Whenever you want," Valentine said, and he leaned in to kiss Piven, who kissed back eagerly. Pivan was shaking a little.  "I just want to make it up to you, you treat me so good and I was so awful to you," Val apologized, forcing sincerity into his voice. He looked down again, it was easier to appear ashamed then it was to maintain a sincere expression. _

 

_ "Gregory, if you're lying to me,” he said, his hand going through Valentine’s hair, half stroking, half pulling as Piven warred with his paranoia, struggling between love and fear. “ I don't know what I would do, I might get mad and kill you." _

 

_ "I'm not," Val promised, "I will try to do better so you don't have to hurt me, I know how much it hurts you."  _

 

Val watched as the bloody water ran clear, he soaped himself, and his head was starting to hurt. The scars on his chest stung, and he felt them under the tattoos. He didn’t want to remember, that’s why he covered them. Someone did love him now, probably. 

 

_ Piven left, and Val leaned against the bed. He tried not to sigh, or give away his anxiety or deception as he didn't trust that Piven didn't have a camera or wasn't sitting outside the doorway to catch him in a lie. Val wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Piven came back with a glass full of brown liquid, the look of joy on seeing it, played nicely on his face, because Piven mistook it for joy at seeing him. _

 

_ "Oh Gregory," he said sitting on the bed, stroking his cheek roughly. "Things can be better," he promised. He set the glass down, and undid the ropes, he leaned in to kiss Valentine, and Val kissed him back, his hands going to Piven's waist, pulling him closer.  Piven started undressing him, and Val reciprocated. "It can be so nice, when you love someone," Piven said. He pushed Val onto his back, and continued kissing him.  _

 

_ Piven did his best to be gentle and loving, as much as someone as crazy as him could, and Val moaned and said he loved it as much as someone who was faking it could. Valentine fed Piven sips of his bourbon, and Piven allowed Val to give him a massage. Val hoped he'd swallowed enough, and he was relaxing under Val's touch, Val tried not to get ahead of his plan, he needed Piven out of the way so he could find a way out. Piven tensed suddenly. _

 

_ "I don't," he said, sitting up, and Val could see it was working. "I need to tie you up," Piven said, his eyes slightly unfocused.  _

 

_ "Yeah, okay," Val said, and he withdrew, Piven tried to stand. _

 

_ "What did you do?" He accused. That was all the confirmation Val needed, he punched Piven as hard as he could, and Piven fell back, Val punched him again, and again, his breathing ragged and blood was on his fist and Piven's face. Val hit him again, just to be sure, and then he tied Piven's hands. He dressed quickly, feeling panicky. He wanted to go investigate the house, but he didn't want to turn his back on Piven either. He finally talked himself into leaving, and he shut the door, bolting it from the outside, and he ran through the house. The front door was locked and Val went to the windows, they had bars, but Piven had to leave, so there must be keys. Val flung open drawers and began searching, spilling contents, pulling pictures off the wall, he was frantic and even though he knew a lot of time hadn't passed, his gaze kept flicking to the door that contained Piven. Val felt his blood run cold. If Piven got up and he was still here, Piven would try to kill him. Val armed himself, he wasn't going down without a fight. Val left the main room, and searched in another room.  _

 

_ There were animal heads and guns on the wall, and Valentine tensed. He started going through the desk, and spilling the contents. Val found the keys in a drawer with pictures of him, naked, unconscious, Piven must have taken them. Val threw them into the fireplace and smashed an oil lamp, to start the fire. He’d misjudged and the oil splashed out of the fireplace, the rug starting to catch fire.  _

 

_ Val looked back at the damage. ‘Well fuck that guy,’ Val thought and tipped the wooden chair half in the fire and half out. Then he grabbed another oil lamp and smashed it in the fire on the rug, throwing down pillow cushions and a curtain. The room was starting to really catch fire, and Val took off for the front door and never looked back.  _

 

_ Val had gone to the hospital, and given his statement. He knew to minimize it, the police seemed suspicious of him, even with the injuries. He decided to be brief when they asked if letting his clients burn him was a service he offered as they studied the cigarette burns.  They'd found Piven's body, still tied to the bed, and had asked Valentine if he had stolen anything. They decided it was self-defense after weighing the statement Valentine gave, against the overwhelming evidence. They’d also recovered some photographs that coborated Valentine’s story. Val had given up more than he would have, but he didn't want to go to jail for murder, especially not for that guy.  _

 

Val turned off the shower water, he wondered what Peter would think, maybe Peter had already read the file. Of course, that Valentine had further spread the fire and had hoped to kill Piven wasn't in there. What would he think? Val's head was starting to swim. Livingston's pills must be taking effect. Val pulled a towel around him, and ached for Peter, and resented his own neediness. Val toweled off and made his way to the bed, dropping onto the mattress, and pulling the covers over him. 

 

***

 

Peter went back out to join the doctor and Collin. “I’ll tell you my concerns,” Livingston said. “This reaction is consistent with trauma. I am concerned about a  concussion, and I’d like to rule that out. I also think he should talk to someone. You’re obviously very important to him, but sometimes it helps to talk to others. I think he’s going to be fine,” the doctor said firmly, “Valentine has always been resilient.” 

 

“One issue with avoidance behaviors, not going outside,” Collin clarified, “is that it compounds the issue. The more he avoids it, the harder it is to do, and the more anxiety it causes. The more anyone tries to force him, the more he'll resist it and the more difficult it becomes, it's a vicious cycle that reinforces itself.  The symptoms he’s having, ringing ears, dizziness, hot and cold flashes, are all symptoms of panic attacks. All very normal after trauma.”

 

"I want to run some blood work," Dr. Livingston said, "but we didn't get that far."

 

"Leave the stuff, I'll get a draw later and send it over," Peter offered. 

 

“And I’d like to come by and just visit with him a few times. Until he feels up to seeing someone,” Collin said. 

 

Peter nodded, "and the sleeping?"

 

“Let him sleep as much as he needs to for now. In addition to the injuries which are still healing, the intensity, duration and frequency of the panic attacks are going to leave him feeling fatigued, an emotional hangover of sorts. He’s also hyper vigilant which is draining cognitively. So the extra sleep is needed. I'll send a script to the pharmacy, and Collin can bring it tomorrow if you aren't able to get away. Here is my number, and Collin's if he needs anything, call one of us."

 

“Thank you,” Peter said gratefully, but distracted, he wanted to get back to Valentine. 

 

***

 

Valentine lay in the darkness, sweat covering his body, he was alone, and it was dark. The pills made him feel weightless, lightheaded.

 

_ Val sipped his drink, but he started to feel strange, he blinked a few times, and then pushed away from the bar. 'Someone put something in my drink,' Val thought to himself, standing feeling dizzy. He had to get out of there.  _

_ “Are you okay?" a voice asked, a hand on his shoulder.  _

 

_ “Yeah,” Val said, pulling away, and making his way to the door, his legs moving slowly, he had to get home.  _

 

_ “Hey, everything is okay,” the guy said, pulling Val to him, “I’ll take care of you,” hands, roaming Val’s body, more hands. _

 

_ “He’s so pretty, get him outside,” another voice said, Val’s eyes rolled as he was pushed into the back of a van, he saw vague faces, as hands undressed him, touching him, violating him…”please stop,” he begged…”stop,”  _

 

Val was face down in the pillows, shaking, Peter climbed into bed next to him, pulling Val towards him, but Val jerked away. “Stop,” Val cried out, he looked like he was trying to sit up, but he couldn’t hold himself, and he collapsed again. Peter saw tears and ached at whatever nightmare Valentine was trapped in. It was torture, wanting to comfort him, but his touch was suddenly unwelcome, ‘ _ no,’ _ Peter admonished himself, his touch was not unwelcome, Val didn't know it was him.

 

“I won’t hurt you,” Peter promised, reaching out a hand tentatively.

 

_ “It doesn’t hurt, you’re fine,” his attacker said, “you’re a fucking prostitute you must get it like this all the time. Just fucking cooperate, don't be dramatic, I'm fucking paying you this isn't a date" Val tried to get the guy to come, if he just got him off, it was his best chance to get away, just finish it.  _

 

"Okay," Val murmured reaching for Peter, "okay," he slurred, kissing him, touching him. Peter attempted to reciprocate, but it became clear Val was still dreaming, and it wasn't a pleasant sexy dream. Peter evaded the automatic detached touches Val attempted to provide him. Peter tried to soothe without acting out the nightmare with him. Peter gently directed Val's hands away, and murmured words of love. 

 

Peter didn’t know if he was reaching Valentine, or making it worse. “I’m sorry,” Peter whispered, feeling his own chest tighten it hurt watching Valentine suffer through whatever it was that he was dreaming about. 

 

"Peter," Val said softly in his sleep, his hands reaching out, searching in the darkness. 

 

“I’m here,” Peter said, and Val launched himself into Peter’s arms, pressing his head to Peter’s chest, his arms going around him tight, and Peter folded his arms around Val, breathing him in, willing love, affection and comfort to Val, hoping he could feel it, hoping it calmed him, wanting to do something, anything to make this better. 

 

"Are you awake?" Peter asked softly. 

 

"Yeah," Val murmured a little more clearly, but still groggy.

 

“I love you,” Peter said, and Val tensed, and laughed painfully.

 

“How can you love me? I’m not even me anymore, I don't know who I am,” Val slurred bitterly. Peter kissed him, holding him, massaging and trying to reassure Val physically and verbally that he cared for him very much as Val continued cycling in and out of sleep, and nightmares.

 

***

 

The pills the doctor left had helped a little, but not much. Val might not have Backstrom’s constitution, but drugs just didn’t work the same way anymore. Peter was up meditating and Val watched him silently. One eye opened and Peter smiled, and Val couldn’t help smiling back. Peter crawled onto the bed, his hands reaching for Val and planting kisses on any flesh he found. Val smiled leaning back into the sensation. Val went to his knees, meeting Peter, as Peter’s hand slipped behind Val’s head, pulling him in for a kiss, chest to chest, stomachs touching, erections brushing each other, Peter’s tongue slid into Val’s mouth, and Val sucked, a little his own tongue dancing along Peter’s. Peter moaned, and pulled back, dropping kisses on Val’s face and Val closed his eyes leaning back as Peter found his neck, nipped a pulse point, stroked. “Want me to tell you a wake up orgasm?” Peter asked huskily and they fell back on the sheets, hungry, hands, tongues, mouths, all the pleasure places, until they both shuttered in ecstasy. 

 

Peter enticed him into a shower, they washed each other, massaging, stroking, kissing. As they were pulling clothes out of the closet, Val went still. “A suit?” he asked, he tried to sound casual, but there was a bit of concern in his voice. Peter turned, wrapping his arms around Val, nuzzling his neck. 

 

“I’m going by the office, to look at a bit of evidence, and then I’ll be back.” Val nodded, and licked his lips. He was not going to make a big deal about this. Of course they weren’t going to stay in the apartment forever. “Collin is also coming by to visit and I thought maybe it would be nice if you had some space,” Peter whispered, his hands splaying on Val’s sides, his fingers brushing Val’s ribs. 

 

“A babysitter,” Val bserved indignantly. Peter put his head against Val’s shoulder.

 

“No, a friend who wanted to spend some time with you. I can call out,” Peter said, “or have Moto bring the evidence by, I won’t leave if you don’t want me to,” he offered. 

 

“No it’s okay,” Val said, pulling on his jeans, a tshirt and one of his black hoodies. He disappeared into the bathroom to put on his kohl and eyeliner. Peter finished getting ready. A short time later there was a knock at the door and Peter rushed to get it, he’d instinctively minimized the door being open, and tried to deal with it when Valentine wasn’t around. 

 

“Hi,” Collin greeted, holding two coffees and a deli bag.

 

“Come in,” Peter said closing the door. “He’s finishing up, and will be out soon.” 

 

“Great, I’ll wait in the dining room, if you need to go,” Collin offered.

 

“Yeah, thanks for doing this,” Peter said putting a grateful hand on Collin’s shoulder. Peter disappeared into the bedroom and gave Val a kiss before leaving. 

 

Val considered staying in his room, but he really did want to see Collin again. It wasn’t as much pressure with only Collin there. 

 

“I have croissants, brown sugar and butter, Peter said they were your favorite,” Collin called from the other room. Val smiled at the effort, and at Peter giving away his secrets. Val wandered out to the dining room, dread starting to build in his stomach. He felt apprehension as he watched Collin. 

 

_ “Grigory are you offering to take his place,” Natasha asked, holding her whip, looking hungrily at Valentine. _

 

Val shook his head to clear the memory. Collin help up the coffee and the bag. Val relented and slid into a chair next to him. 

 

“So,” Val said, taking a bit of the croissant, “do you tie me up and drag me outside?”

 

_ “Tie his hands,” Natasha said to Adrik, pressing the whip handle under Valentine’s chin, kissing his mouth. _

 

“Maybe in a few weeks,” Collin said with an eye roll, “but step one is just staying here and talking.”  

 

“About tying me up and dragging me out?” Val ventured, sipping his coffee.

 

Collin shook his head, and smiled. “I thought we’d just catch up,” Collin offered. Val studied his face, Collin looked very different from the punky goth look of a few years ago. His blond hair was cut short, he was more muscular and fit looking. He wore a button up shirt, and slacks. 

 

“You look like you’re doing well,” Collin shrugged looking around.

 

“It’s all Peter’s” Val said, picking at his croissant. 

 

“He also seems nice,” Collin mused. 

 

Val smiled, “he is nice. Your dad said you were engaged?” Val asked..

 

“Yes, Sam,” Collin said, with a small smile, his cheeks flushing a bright red. He started flipping through some pictures in his phone. Collin was standing next to a man roughly the same height and size, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. 

 

“Nice,” Val said, more food moving around in front of him, but very little actually going into him.

 

“He’s great, he’s a business and marketing major, so he’s helping me open my practice,” Collin beamed as he talked about Sam.

 

Collin and Val kept up a light conversation and what they had both been up to. Val started to relax as they swapped stories, all of the light hearted variety. Collin told him several stories about college, and his family, and Val reciprocated with the occasional Backstrom tale  for levity. 

 

“There is one thing I wanted to say,” Collin said, his eyes shifting to a spot past Val’s shoulder. “You’re on my list.”

 

“The naughty or the nice one? Val shot back with a smirk.

 

Collin laughed. “The nice one I suppose. The Narcotics Anonymous one where I make amends to people I wronged.” 

 

“You’ve never done anything to me, so it should be easy,” Val offered, feeling his body tense.

 

_ “We’ve already paid him, and Adrik and I are looking forward to our time,” Natasha pouted, “unless you want to stand in Grigory,” she said smiling broadly. “You’ve turned Adrik and I down so I often, I thought you wouldn’t be interested.” _

 

“I don’t want to delve deeply into that time, because I don’t think you want to relive it. I just wanted to say sorry for the stupid things I did. And thank you for getting me back to my dad. The stupid reasons he andI  were fighting, and I was just dumb and spoiled. I wouldn’t have made it long on the streets,” Collin confessed. There was a quiet confidence, and humbleness to his apology. Val listened trying to stay present. 

 

“Okay,” Val shrugged, “you’re forgiven.”

 

“No, I’m, I’m apologizing for the,” Collin looked uncomfortable. “When you came to get me, you told me to wait outside. I didn’t. I know you took that trick for me, and I heard,” Collin shook his head. “I heard what happened, and I was just so grateful it wasn’t me.”

 

_ Adrik’s mouth pressed against his, the whip cracked against his back and he flinched, “oh watch him twitch!” Natasha was gleeful behind him. Adrik kissed him harder, biting, drawing blood, Val closed his eyes, the whip fell again, harder, Adrik pressed his erection against Val, Natasha was suddenly behind him, pawing at him, and then she traded places with Adrik, who moved around behind Val, his hand pushing Val’s pants down, grabbing him roughly, “let’s fuck him,” Natasha said breathlessly, Adrik moaned an agreement.  _

 

_ Adrik stood, and backed away and Natasha kissed Val, pressing into him, her tongue plunging into his mouth, Val focused on just getting it over with. The whip across his back that time, made him jump, he hadn’t been expecting it. It stung and he grunted, his eyes wide as he cried out, that fucking hurt, “oh,” Natasha fake pouted, and then kissed him, “you promised us three,” she reminded him, grabbing at him,  _

 

_ “It’s beautiful,” Adrik said to Natasha, touching the lash mark and Val flinched, she raked her nails across his back, crossing over the lash mark, Val’s skin felt raw. Adrik was providing condoms and lube, as he pushed Valentine on top of Natasha, Adrik got behind them, and Val tried to get them both off quickly. Natasha screeched her orgasm, and Adrik orgasmed, pulling out, ripping off the condom and spilled his semen on both of them. _

 

_ “Oh Grigory, don’t leave us yet, we have so much more we want to share,” Natasha moaned, Val pulled on his clothes, desperate to escape them.  _

 

_ “You guys are too intense for me,” Val tried to sound complimentary. It was well known that Natasha and Adrik were unpredictable, violent and most likely psychotic. He had warned Collin and several others to stay away from them, he had always avoided them himself until now. Several of their other playthings had ended up scarred and there was a rumor that one was crippled.  _

 

_ Natasha and Adrik Faydrick were infamous, rich, violent, but they paid well, which was too tempting for some, but Val liked being able to walk and he had enough scars of his own. They portrayed themselves as BDSM, but Val had been on the receiving end of some talented practitioners, and he concluded that Natasha and Adrik were just sadistic.  They liked to hurt people.  _

 

_ Natasha and Adrik  started kissing each other, ignoring Valentine as he ducked out while they were wrapped up in each other. He'd fulfilled the obligation and he planned to avoid them both in case they had any ideas of a repeat performance.  _

 

Val nodded. “It’s fine,” he said waving it off.

 

“We can stop talking about it, because my amends are not supposed to distress you. But it wasn’t fine, and I’m so grateful. I never even said thank you then, I don’t think. I was so relieved it wasn’t me and I am ashamed that,” Collin teared up, and looked down. 

 

“It’s okay,” Val said, “really. I’m sure it sounded worse than it was, I barely remember it,” Val lied. 

 

“I have a great life and it’s because of people like you who looked out for me. I’m really grateful, I’m sorry for how selfish I was, and I’m sorry you got hurt protecting me,” Collin said sincerely. Val nodded.

 

“I forgive you,” Val said, settling back into his seat, the scar along his back starting to ache. 

 

***

 

Collin and Dr. Livingston came by for the next few days, the doctor checking stats, taking blood and reporting that Val seemed to be improving. Collin came by and they never talked about what happened when they were younger, or what happened to Val at all. They watched movies, talked about medical school, Collin’s new job, Val’s assistance with the police. There was always someone with Val, and despite Backstrom’s grousing and insults, Peter would only go into the office if someone was with Valentine. 

 

The next week passed in that way, and Valentine felt more relaxed with Peter, and less like Peter was hovering. The attacks lessened some, he never really had time to get as worked up with Peter home because Peter would comfort him, talk him down, and had shown him several techniques to manage his breathing. Peter had even managed to talk Val into a morning and evening meditation routine, and not once had Peter even hinted that they should leave or that he wanted Valentine to go outside. Peter acted like their lives were perfectly normal. Val gradually started to feel more like himself, the cobwebs clearing from his mind. 

 

“Yeah, Sam is great,” Collin laughed wrapping up the story of their proposal. “I never thought I’d find someone like him.” Val smiled. 

 

“Sounds like me,” Val mused. 

 

“And Peter?” Collin asked with raised eyebrows. 

 

“Yeah, and Peter. He’s really great,” Val said shyly. “I really didn’t think I’d meet someone like him, or be with someone like him.” Val crossed his arms thinking. A sudden sense of dread washed over him, but a veil lifted as well, over a part of his mind he wouldn’t acknowledge or explore. He shook a little, closing his eyes tight.

 

“Are you okay?” Collin asked leaning forward. Val nodded. The front door sounded, and Peter called a greeting. “We’re in here,” Collin called. He looked at his watch, “I need to go, actually.” 

 

“Tell Sam I said hi,” Val said, leaning back against the couch. Peter let Collin out and then wandered into the living room, Val had his feet on the coffee table, and his head back against the couch, eyes closed. He looked, peaceful. Peter leaned in kissing him, and Val’s hands came up to his face, his fingers dancing along the stubble. 

 

“I missed you,” Peter mouthed against him. 

 

“Yeah?” Val asked in a husky voice, pulling Peter down beside him.

 

“Yeah.”  

 

Val closed his eyes and sighed. "I want to tell you something,” Val said with a little flinch. Peter turned so he could see Val, one hand on Val's stomach, the other sliding behind his back.

 

“Okay,” Peter said, a vague sense of unease in his gut. Val licked his lips, and pressed his forehead to Peter’s.

 

“Just,” Val said, letting out a long breath. “Just let me say it and don’t say anything okay? I know it’s stupid, but I just want to say it out loud and see if it makes sense.”

 

“Of course,” Peter agreed nodding his head.

 

“And don’t look at me,” Val said. 

 

Peter laughed, a little. “How can I resist looking at you?” Val smirked and gave him a playful stern look. “Where should I look?” he asked.

 

“Nevermind, I won’t look at you,” Val said, his hand resting in Peter’s hair, and he clsoed his eyes leaning back against the couch. 

 

“Anything else?”

 

“No, just let me,” Val let out a long breath again. “I know,” Val started slowly, “I know a lot of the messed up stuff that happened to me, wasn’t my fault,” there was a brief hesitation over that, and Peter’s arm tightened against Val’s back, hoping to offer silent support. “I know that,” Val said again a little more forcefully. “It wasn’t unexpected though, I usually knew when I was in danger,” Val explained, “or at least, it wasn’t ever really out of the question. I never felt safe.” Peter tried to remain calm listening, it hurt to hear, but he didn’t want his reaction to cause Val to shut down or hesitate to tell him. Peter sat up next to Valentine then, wrapping his arms around him, dropping a kiss on his neck. He tried to comfort unobtrusively so as not to slow Val down. 

 

“At Backstrom’s,” Val said, “I did feel kind of safe. Safer.” Peter watched Val’s face, tensing and relaxing, his eyes moving as if a movie was playing behind them. “Here I felt,” Val stumbled, “I mean, I feel safe. I wasn’t expecting what happened at the hotel.” Peter felt his heart ache remembering the hotel. “It wasn’t my fault,” Val said, “I didn’t do anything, or scam anyone, or be somewhere I wasn’t supposed to,” Val explained, his breathing quickening. “And if something like that could happen and it wasn’t my fault, then maybe the other stuff wasn’t  **_really_ ** my fault either,” Val finished. “I know that doesn’t make sense, but even when something bad happened I felt in control. If I just stopped hooking it would be over, I’d be safe, if I just stopped stealing I’d be safe.”  Peter continued to listen and stroke Valentine, to soothe the tension in his arms. “And it wasn’t true. I wasn’t safe. The people I cared about weren’t safe. The person, I care about,” Val said softly, Peter saw one eye flicker open and glance at him. 

 

Peter felt his heart swell at Val’s confession of caring about him, and he mentally chastised himself for getting distracted. “I guess, part of the problem now is, I don’t know what is true and not true. I have always known that other people did awful things to me, and it wasn’t my fault, but,” Val hesitated, and he turned his back to Peter, but held Peter’s hands to his chest.  “It’s your fault but not your fault,” Val shuttered, and felt his throat constrict. Peter held him, kissing the back of his neck. “People who hurt you say it’s your fault, that you brought it on. I was so pretty," Val said his throat catching, and he sniffed back tears, "I was doing it to them, making them, teasing them, enticing them." Val paused for a long time, swallowing. "And I was, you know?" Val breathed out in confession, “dressing in ways, and teasing and enticing them, right, I was hooking," Peter tensed and started to shake his head in denial, there was no excuse for what happened to Val.

 

"Don't!" Val said quickly, "I know what you're going to say, please just listen."

 

"Yes, of course," Peter said feeling remorse. If Val was able to endure all of the things he had, and wanted to talk about it, then the least Peter could do was listen without judgment and give Val the space to talk. 

 

"I dressed provocatively, right?" Val asked, “I wanted men to desire me, to want me, so they would pay me. I never had a pimp or let anyone else deal for me. I wanted to choose my tricks. Because if you choose yourself, you decide, you pick the right ones and you won’t get hurt. You’re in control." 

 

"Mm'hmm," Peter murmured trying to listen and forcing his brain not to generate responses as much as he noted flawed logic in Val’s explanation. Val was grabbing Peter’s hands and pulling Peter's arms tighter around him, Peter wondered if Val even realized it. 

 

"I didn't know, I didn't realize how much of an object I was. The couch doesn't tell you not to sit on it," Val laughed without humor. "When someone offers you money, you're not supposed to say no, it's business. They can't be too ugly or not your style right? They get to reject you, you're not good enough, just one of many items on a menu, you don't matter." Peter shuttered, and Val froze. "I can stop," he offered in a pained whisper, and Peter felt the withdrawal. Peter instinctively held him tighter, as if he could keep him from withdrawing emotionally.

 

"No, I'm sorry, it's hard to hear because I don't picture you that way, and it makes me angry that anybody did." Val nodded and fell silent. Peter thought he may have ruined the moment but Val continued softly.

 

"It's not like it was a relationship, but it wasn't all bad. Some of them were fun, most of them were unremarkable and a few," Val breathed out, "a few were really bad," Val confessed, and Peter got the sense that he only had the barest glimpse of what had happened to Valentine. Val turned in Peter's arms, and put his forehead to Peter's, he looked him in the eye. Peter held his gaze and hoped that Val felt his acceptance, understanding and love, he hoped that’s what he projected. Val's hand tentatively touched Peter's cheek. He took a small breath before continuing.

 

"I turned this guy down, and it offended him," Val said, watching Peter intently. Val's fingers started to fidget with Peter's tie and Val focused his gaze there like he was distracted by straightening it. "He didn't care for my answer," Val shrugged with a tight smile, and Peter got the sense that what transpired was much more unpleasant then a simple disagreement. "When he was done, he threw money at me, he told me it was over, he'd paid me," Val said swallowing hard. "I was, pulling my clothes on, and the police showed up. The guy shot me a dirty look, and I felt relieved, because, " Val laughed, but it turned into a half sob. He took several more breathes, his eyes closed tightly. "I thought I was safe, because they would help," Val said sarcastically, his teeth cleneched.

 

Peter tried to continue soothing, holding him rubbing his back. "One of the officers called him over and the other helped me up. My shirt was ripped, I had a cut over my eye, my cheek was swelling, I hadn't even gotten my pants fastened, I was holding holding them up with one hand. I was leaning against a wall, and the cop was looking at me with such irritation." 

 

Val sniffed again, and then forged ahead. "The cop informed me, that the guy had said he paid me, and I was standing there with the cash still in my hand, I didn't remember taking it, but the guy had shoved it into my hands. The cop told me how stupid my line of work was, and that I shouldn't - **_let-_ ** people do this to me," Val opened his eyes, and Peter saw the sheen of tears that Val was not letting fall. "I tried to explain, but the cop just looked at the cash and shot me one of those 'oh really' looks," Val licked his lips, he closed his eyes, and put a hand on Peter's neck, his hands were tentative like he was assuring himself Peter was still there. "I can't tell you the number of times, someone said I shouldn't 'let' something happen, doctors, police, fellow prostitutes," Val said with a smirk. "Everyone says it's not your fault, but when you're selling sex, you don't have the right to say no, rape isn't real, and everything is your fault. You  **let** things happen or you don't, you  **choose** good tricks or you don't. You  **let** someone hit you or you don't." Val was gripping the front of Peter’s shirt, "I started to believe that I was in control of those things. If I picked a bad trick that was on me, I'd be smarter, faster, better next time." 

 

"Even when tricks fell for me. It was still a favor. They loved me, but I wasn't worthy of it, so it was such a treat," Val explained. "They wanted to be loved back, but it was just a role, you had to perform, love them the way they wanted. They wanted to be worshipped, and they wanted you to be grateful. You can't be what they want, and they lash out. All the people I’ve ever known who were in love were unstable and violent.” Peter put his hand to Val’s face, his thumb tracing his cheek, he listened, and he couldn’t keep the concern from his face.  He had a deep desire to never tell Valentine he loved him again, he never wanted to bring up these memories. 

 

“I’m sorry it was like that,” Peter said, kissing Val, and Val returned the kiss with intensity. 

 

“I,” Val said, pushing Peter so he could straddle his lap. Val opened his eyes and looked at Peter, kissing him. "I really like you," Val confessed like the words were being torn from his soul, a carefully guarded secret, and he was shaking slightly.  Peter could see it in his eyes, Val was vulnerable, and unsure, not a typical posture from his young lover. Peter often forgot he was older, except during the moments when Val let his guard down. Val seemed to be bracing himself, for Peter to do something, and Peter got the sense that while Val may know Peter wasn't going to hurt him, Val's body had some long standing memories that expected violence. Peter kept his hands at Val's waist, letting Val tower of him, and Peter tried let Val be in control, hoping to give him what he needed.

 

"I feel really lucky," Peter said, his hands gently drifting along Val's body, trying desperately to not take any kind of power away. Val closed his eyes and a smile fell across his lips. Val let go of a tense breath. 

 

“I”m kind of waiting for you to hit me, how fucked up is that?” Val asked, shaking his head. 

 

Peter’s hands stilled, and he caught Val’s eyes, “that’s going to be a long wait for something that isn’t going to happen. I would never hit you Valentine, or hurt you.”

 

“I know,” Val said, squeezing his eyes shut. 

 

“I love you,” Peter said, and that felt suddenly inadequate, “I don’t hurt people, and I would never hurt you.” 

 

"Are you sure about this?" Val asked, his hand gesturing between them "With all of this," Val shrugged pointing at his own head, his eyes pained.  

 

"So sure," Peter said without hesitating, and he leaned in kissing Val, hoping that it could communicate at least some of his affection. Val kissed him back tentatively. "What can I say or do to convince you, that I want you here, with me, for however long that is?" Peter asked.

 

"I mean, I can't leave the apartment, so wish granted, you win," Val shrugged, his gaze drifting past Peter, he suddenly looked so miserable. 

 

"I'm not trying to win, Val," Peter said, his hands going to Val's face, inviting him to look at Peter. "If you can't leave, I'll get another apartment if you don't want me here. I'm not going to force you to be with me, even now," Peter promised. 

 

"You want to move out," Val nodded, looking away.

 

"No," Peter said firmly, "I  **will** move out. I don't  **want** to. I love you," Peter said firmly. "I love you so much that I want to be with you all the time, I want this to be permanent for you. I also love you enough that if you can't be happy with me, I want you to be happy, and if that means being without me, then I have to live with that. I’m not going to hold you hostage.” 

 

Val retreated, and that was not entirely unexpected, he backed away crossing his arms. "That's stupid, you love me so much you don't care if I go?"

 

"No," Peter said, Peter stayed seated he wanted to chase Valentine, pull him into his arms, take him to their room and show him in dozens of languages, and physical acts how much he loved him, but he needed Val to make his own choices. He didn't want to be among the people in Val's life who used physical and verbal coercion, who made decisions for him. "No, I'll care a lot. I'll be devastated, but the thought of you tolerating me, or staying out of guilt or obligation, or worse because you physically can't leave, all of that is worse." 

 

"But I do owe you," Val hedged, his arms tightening around his own chest. Val was still retreating in tiny paces, and Peter wondered if he knew that he was backing away. 

 

"Nope," Peter said, shaking his head. "You don't owe me anything. You choose to be with me, or you choose not to be. If you're here for any other reason, if you're with me for any other reason than you want to be with me, and it brings you joy, then it needs to stop," Peter choked on the last word, he meant not to, he didn't want Val to feel sorry for him, and was pretty confident that Val didn't. However, he was also keenly aware that Val was uncomfortable with their relationship in the scope of commitment and longevity.

 

"I don't know if I can give you what you want," Val confessed, one hand going through his own hair in frustration.

 

"I'm only asking that you tell me right now, if tonight you want me here with you. And everyday you be honest with me about wanting, or not wanting to be with me. I don't need anything more than the day to day, but if you don't tell me to leave, and you don't leave, then I need it to be because you want to be with me in that moment, not because of obligation, or fear, or anything else." Peter moved closer, but he sat on the coffee table in front of Valentine, he didn't want to tower over him, he wanted Val to feel in control, and wanted to minimize any impression of intimidation. He put his hands on Val's waist, and looked up at him.

 

"If you care about something, set it free," Val said looking down at him, and Peter noted the misquote of ‘care’ instead of ‘love’, and he knew damn well Val knew the word was love too, "if it comes back to you, it's yours," Val finished. 

 

"I don't think you'll ever belong to me," Peter said, "I don't want to possess you, I want to be with you." 

 

"Doesn't seem like a good deal for you," Val said, his hands tentatively drifting down to Peter’s neck.

 

"You can trust me, and I do tell you the truth," Peter emphasized. "I'm telling you I'm okay with how you feel, I'm telling you how I feel. It's important to me that you are happy with me preferably, but without me if need be."

 

"I honestly don't know if I'm using you or if my feelings are," Val trailed off swallowing hard, his eyes wide, intently watching Peter for a reaction. Peter tried not to smile, if Val wasn't sure, it probably meant Val was in new emotional territory, which meant he probably felt very deeply, and didn't know what to do with it. Peter was certain Val knew exactly when he was using someone. "I mean, I know I'm not just, but I don't know if I have anything deeper than," Val shrugged.

 

"I'm not so afraid of losing something, that I don't want to experience it. I already love you, that has happened and if you leave now or a year from now or a hundred years from now, it'll be worth it for all the time I did get to love you."

 

"Even if I don't feel the same?" Val hedged, and he started to retreat again, his hands retreating and just his fingers brushing Peter's arms.

 

Peter wanted to argue that if Val didn't love him, he had a funny way of showing it. Val was always attending to Peter's needs, pursuing him, pleasuring him, taking the time to get to know him, sharing with him, defending him, protecting him, comforting him in small and big ways, showering him with affection after a bad day, or even a mediocre one, and definitely on good days, learning his favorites, showing him new favorites, making him laugh, trying to amuse him, and all of the ways Val fit into his life. Val made Peter want to be a better man. Not the least of all things, Val had almost died for him, and one thing Valentine did value was his own life, to lay it down for another. Peter didn't think Val would appreciate a challenge to how he experienced his own feelings. What right did Peter have to tell Val how he felt? Peter could only decide how he experienced Val's actions and affection, Peter didn’t get to decide for Valentine that it meant more. After all, Val's long term definition of love was certainly not something Peter hoped Val would come to associate with their relationship. 

 

"You already make me happy," Peter said, resting his head against Val's stomach. "You don't have to do anything else, or feel any differently than you do now."  Val's fingers started to go through Peter's hair, tentative stroking. He could feel Val tensing and the nervous energy vibrating through him, not the panicky energy, but the 'you're too close emotionally' energy. Peter let his hands gently go around Val's back, his fingers brushing his sides. Val gently pulled Peter’s hair so he was looking up into Val's eyes, he leaned down to kiss Peter, tentative at first. 

 

Val dropped to his knees, deepening the kiss, long, hungry, his hands cupping Peter's face and pulling him close. Peter nibbled along Val's bottom lip, his hands pulling Val closer. Val grabbed his tie, and pulled him forward, and Peter complied, Val leaning back and Peter landing on top of him, pressing against him. Val used his magician hands and clothing was disappearing from both of them without Val breaking the kiss. Peter helped where he could, his mouth and hands hungrily devouring every inch of flesh Val exposed. Peter didn't know where the lube came from but Val never ceased to amaze in that department.

 

Val was pressing against him and Peter thrust forward, Val's eyes were slightly closed, and Peter leaned in, biting his shoulder, kissing, Val's hand was suddenly on his cheek, turning him so he could see into his eyes. Peter slowed entranced by the desire in Val's eyes, Val moving against him his mouth pressing into Peter's without breaking the gaze. Peter shuttered as Val moaned his hand going behind Peter's neck pulling him down hard, Peter orgasmed as stars danced across his eyes, he felt light headed, it was so good, his whole body exploded in pleasure he kept thrusting and felt Val come, hot liquid hitting his stomach, Val shuttering, spasming beneath him, around him. Peter fell on Val's chest, his weight pushing him down. Who knew where one began and one eneded. Peter propped himself up on his forearms after a minute, as Val started kissing his way around Peter's chest and neck. 

 

They were both sucking in air, and sweating, their bodies tangled together, kisses, hands stroking, exploring well travelled territory. Val's head fell back, he smiled, and Peter wrapped his arms under him, letting his hands drift through Val's hair, his fingers massaging his neck. Peter thrust again even as he softened and Val gasped in pleasure, giving Peter one of his sultry looks, a low moan of appreciation. Peter laughed and kissed him again, his tongue delving into mouth, and Val met his intensity. 

 

Peter rolled to his side, and Val curled up behind him Peter stroked Val's arm and smiled. "I really like you a lot," Val whispered, kissing Peter's neck, nibbling at his ear. 

 

"I'm really glad," Peter smiled back, his fingers entwining with Val's.

 

***

 

Val had woken up  feeling refreshed for the first time in weeks. His head didn't feel as cloudy. Val had begged off the constant supervision, and Peter was working half days in the morning and not requiring Collin or Livingston to come by. Val stood by the front door, his heart hammering. Peter had left a half hour ago, and Val was determined. He took deep calming breaths, he closed his eyes, and he opened the door. He could feel his pulse quicken but he kept a steadying hand on the wall. He opened one eye, and made his way down the hallway, one hand on the wall. The room tried to shift under him, but he kept his eyes focused on a spot just in front of him. He pressed the button to call the elevator, and it coasted to his floor. He had to force himself to step on, and reminded himself he had done it hundreds of times before. The back of his neck itched where the gun had been pressed, but he ignored it, clenching and unclenching his fists as he felt them drift almost automatically to the spot. There was a small ringing sound in his ears, but he sang a soft rock song under his breath, focusing on the lyrics. Sweat was breaking out on his brow, and despite his best efforts, he leapt out as soon as the doors opened. He took a moment to calm his breathing, leaning against the concrete parking wall. He just had to make it to the coffee shop for one drink, then he could retreat, he promised himself. 

 

Everyday he went a little further, he hadn't told anyone yet. Despite all the support, he was incredibly embarrassed. Each day it got a little easier and he felt more like himself. He took note of every tip or trick for calming himself that Collin, Livingston, or Peter offered, and he had a dozen options in his arsenal to combat the anxiety. Dr. Livingston had prescribed a low dose anxiety medication which was helping Val as he learned to self-regulate. One foot after the other Val kept his head down, his eyes scanning his surroundings. He would find one thing to keep his focus on and make his way towards that, trying not to take in anything else. Breathing slowly, keeping his heart rate under control. 

 

"Valentine?" Peter said, his hand reaching out. Val's head whipped up as Peter was suddenly in his path. Val jumped slightly, but put out a hand and Peter took it.

 

"Hey," Val breathed, catching his breath. "I was going for some coffee, thirsty?" Val asked. Peter smiled, entwining his fingers with Val’s, and falling into step beside him. Val expected some ridiculous affirmations, but Peter smiled slightly and fell into step beside him. Val appreciated the normalcy of it "Don't you have a job?"

 

"Backstrom kicked me out of the office for being too cheerful and I've been exiled to remote work today," Peter explained. 

 

"Lucky me," Val smirked, finally getting his breathing even again.

 

"Lucky me," Peter corrected, pulling Val into him, giving him a quick kiss as he walked backwards for a moment, then fell into step beside him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Good is good, but bad is better.  
> Kudos are good, but comments are better :)


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